Perfect
by Chevox
Summary: S3E3. Series 3 has always been my favourite and I wanted to explore what could have happened if the "neighbours from hell" had not interrupted Martin & Louisa's second dinner date. This is my first fanfiction attempt and I am a little nervous about it so would really appreciate reviews. Doc Martin is owned by Buffalo Pictures. Hope you enjoy it!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Martin sat nervously at his kitchen table. He was due at Louisa's house in half an hour for dinner and he had deliberately prepared early in order to give himself some thinking time. He was dressed in his best outfit ...a suit ... and was reminiscing recent events. A week ago Louisa had unexpectedly invited him to her house for dinner. He was very excited but also agitated about it but unfortunately the planned dinner had not eventuated as there was a problem with Louisa's cooker and they had ended up at Bert Large's restaurant where a medical emergency had occurred and Martin departed with the patient leaving Louisa wondering if she would ever be able to enjoy a social night with this elusive but highly – on demand – man. She alone in Portwenn fully recognised the true extent of his talents but surely even doctors could have the occasional night off?

As he walked away, Martin had been bitterly disappointed that it was yet another failed attempt to get to know Louisa. He _really_ wanted to get to know her and not just in the "Biblical sense" as Bert Large had once described Lady Brading's relationship with the barking Colonel. He honestly thought that Louisa would now think that it was all too much like hard work and give up on the idea of seeing him socially so he was delighted a few nights ago when he had been walking through the village to see her cycling down the hill towards him looking delectable as usual. She explained that her cooker had been repaired by Wadebridge Electrical and that she would like to reschedule the dinner date. He eagerly accepted the invitation and they agreed on 6:30 p.m. in order to comply with his carbohydrate curfew then she playfully kissed him on the cheek  & cycled down the hill. Martin puffed out his chest, held his head high and strutted down the hill like a peacock with a smile on his face ... or as close as he ever got to a smile.

He still had some time up his sleeve so he continued to sit at the table alternating between a lather of nerves and the thrill of excitement and attempted to take stock of where he and Louise were currently at. He had first met Louisa on a plane as he was heading to his job interview. She was sitting immediately opposite him and he had thought at the time that she was enormously attractive and just his type but these observations had been overridden by his observation of a defect in her eye and she had been offended. Imagine his surprise when she had actually been on his interview panel! She had not seemed particularly impressed (which rather surprised him as he was a prominent London surgeon who was deigning to waste his talents on their little backwater community) and said in a challenging manner that the popular conception of a surgeon was one who dealt with bodies rather than people. If anyone else had confronted him he would have been on the defensive immediately but he disconcertingly found that her feisty personality appealed strongly to him, that she was aggressively charming (if that were at all possible) and he was wondering whether she already had some love interest in the village. None of this showed on his surgeon's face, of course, and he managed to articulate an appropriate answer that seemed to satisfy the panel. After the interview she had come close to him and threatened that she would be keeping an eye on him.

""With pleasure!" he thought while also being a little alarmed at the involuntary excitement he felt at the electricity that she was exuding. "Perhaps Portwenn was not such a bad choice after all!"

Her attitude towards him softened somewhat when she realised that his diagnosis of her eye was spot on and over the next few months they did attempt some sort of friendship. But it was always "two steps forward, one step back" and the very few tender moments they shared were interspersed with childish, petty clashes. Well, now that he came to think of it, it was more often than not, one step forward and two steps back. Whenever they attempted to organise anything social it was always spoiled at the last minute by interfering villagers and medical emergencies and Martin began to despair that his initial attraction would never flourish into anything more worthwhile.

Then there was the delightful – disastrous episode in the taxi. He sensed a definite closeness between them and after several minutes of indecisive dithering, he lightly touched the side of her hand with his own. Louisa took this as carte blanche and passionately kissed him. It took him completely by surprise and not in the least feeling inhibited by the presence of the taxi driver, he eagerly responded. But then he completely blew it by questioning her about her dental hygiene regime and things had been strained between them for many months.

He felt further alienated when he heard the village gossip about "Dan and Lou" but then she informed him that Danny had returned to London and that she wanted to have a drink at his house. He remembered very little about that night other than experiencing the sweetest kiss he had ever had and then promptly blowing it for the second time by passing out on the table. Martin sighed. Maybe they were just not meant to be together?

He had often fantasized about her and the night before the kiss in the taxi he had experienced an incredibly realistic fantasy. He could actually feel the weight of her body on top of his – he could actually feel her warm breath on his face – he could actually feel her tenderly caressing his face with her tongue – he could actually feel the soft strands of her hair and he could actually hear her voice –

"Martin – Martin" she had cried.

He had reached up to pull her face closer to his own before gently kissing her – but it had turned out to be a massively disappointing case of "canine interruptus!" He really _could_ hear her voice. She was leaving a message on his answering machine downstairs about a medical emergency at Mrs Cronk's.

Aunty Joan had once said that he and Louisa were like chalk and cheese. Well if he was the chalk, then he must change to also become the cheese. He must become the brie to her camembert, the stilton to her havarti, the cheddar to her blue vein, the Swiss to her Edam.

"Get a grip Ellingham!" he admonished himself.

It was time to go.

 _To be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Martin rose from the table, took a final examination of himself in the mirror and reached for Louisa's gift. Whenever he was a dinner guest, he always thought it was polite to take a small gift for the host. However, he always struggled with what to bring to a dinner party. The more traditional gifts of wine had an appalling effect on the liver and central nervous system and chocolates caused obesity and tooth decay. When Louisa had invited him for dinner at her home the first time, his gift had been yams – very high in iron. She seemed pleased with the gift although now he thought about it, she did sound a little flat when she had said,

"I'll just put these in some water."

So this time he had thought more carefully about his offering and had visited the village earlier to purchase a bouquet of greenery which he had totally wrapped in attractive paper in case he was seen carrying it home.

Martin furtively poked his head out of his front door, perusing the street for raucous teenagers, interfering busybodies and medical emergencies waiting to happen. He was sure that if he were seen walking down the hill with a brightly wrapped gift then it would be all over social media before he had even arrived at Louisa's house. He was never exactly sure about the true extent of the villager's knowledge of his attraction to Louisa. He was an extremely private person and it had come as a total shock to him when the fifteen year old love-struck Melanie had said to him,

"Well Miss Glasson is a patient and you fancy her!"

Were his feelings so transparent that a 15 year old could read him and if she could, then how many other busybodies also had the lowdown?

Luck was with him and the street was clear. So far, so good. His excitement and nervousness were mounting as he ran through a mental check list of what he must and must not do that night. He had switched his mobile phone off and there was a message on the surgery phone stating that Wadebridge had a 24 hour medical centre in case of emergencies. Then there was the issue of conversation and that would be a tricky one for him. As much as he liked Louisa, he did find her somewhat of an enigma and was frustrated with the mixed messages that she sent him. She was often telling him not to speak, as he may spoil the moment and yet on the other hand she accused him of being a poor conversationalist. She had once said to him,

"Under your gruff, monosyllabic, well meaning but ...rude... exterior, you're gruff, monosyllabic and ...well...rude."

Martin was questioning where the 'well meaning' part had disappeared to but now was not the time to be dwelling on such issues. His main task at hand was to get down the hill without being seen. A few moments later he saw elderly Mr Thompson walking up the hill. Martin was not overly concerned by this. Mr Thompson was as taciturn as Martin was and certainly not prone to village gossip. His secret was safe with him but he transferred the gift behind his back, just to be on the safe side.

"Good evening Dr Ellingham" said Mr Thompson as they passed.

"Evening" Martin nodded.

As Martin strode down the hill, Mr Thompson turned around, saw the gift, smiled, reached for his smart phone and logged onto his social media account. He may be taciturn, but he also had a sense of humour!

Martin reached the village and was proud of his achievements. Only a short distance to go now and he would be in Louisa's sanctum sanctorum. He looked up the hill and to his absolute horror he saw a large group of giggling teenagers walking down the hill, complete with muffin tops and sheepskin boots. WHAT COULD HE DO? To walk past them would make him the laughing stock of the village, although a cruel voice at the very back of his head informed him that he was already the laughing stock of the village. He MUST find refuge somewhere, as he turned his head back and forth in panic! He noticed an open door immediately to his right and thankfully sidestepped into the opening...

 _RIGHT INTO THE FOX'S LAIR!_

 _To be continued._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

With vixen-like swiftness, Mrs Tishell pounced behind Martin, firmly locked the door and pulled down the blind.

"Good evening Dr Ellingham," she said gleefully. "How nice to see you. And right on closing time too!"

Martin looked around in a panic. What the hell was he doing in the pharmacy of all places? He had always made a point of visiting the pharmacy as infrequently as possible and never on closing time. He was furious with himself. He was well and truly trapped now! Mrs Tishell already had her foot on the bottom step and was pointing up the stairs.

"Doctor, I have the quarterly of the MRHA bulletin upstairs. There are some fascinating articles that should interest you. I could make us a pot of tea and some sandwiches. Do you eat tongue? I also have some pasties – home made, of course. Or perhaps you are a Hobnob man? If you ..."

At this point Mrs Tishell's eyes dropped and she noticed, for the first time, the bright package in Martin's hands. BANG! She could hear the nail being driven into the coffin. So, he was still chasing around after that floozy then? What did he see in her, really? Ok, she was attractive, young, intelligent, vibrant, caring, had a lovely figure, but if you put all of that aside, there was really ...nothing. With a predatory stare, she slowly advanced a few steps towards Martin, who was sweating profusely and looking with trepidation for a means of escape.

"You will be pleased to know that Beth Saul was in earlier picking up her Ampicillin," she said with cunning.

"Er...Good..." Martin was wondering where this line of conversation was heading.

"She was in with her sister Janet. There used to be a bit of a love triangle going on there once. It always ends badly when two women are in love with the same man. He should have chosen Janet – strong – intelligent – steadfast. Not that flighty younger one." Mrs Tishell's voice was increasing with hysteria. "It didn't end happily though, did it? He didn't see those tram tracks in Blackpool, did he and then ...SPLAT!"

"MRS TISHELL!"

"Right, you are Doctor" said Mrs Tishell trying to adopt a professional tone of voice and demeanour. "What can I help you with?"

Martin was completely flabbergasted and stood there opening and closing his mouth like a fish. What on earth could he use as an excuse to be in the pharmacy and on closing time too? He didn't want to give Mrs Tishell any 'ideas.' He felt himself go hot under the collar as his mind raced for possible solutions to the conundrum he was now in. His immediate desire was to turn tail and flee her den but that would make him appear even more foolish than he presently looked, to walk in and walk out, with no excuse for being there. His next thought was to tell Mrs Tishell that he wanted to pay his account, but he remembered that he had left his wallet containing his credit cards at home, not thinking he had any need for them. The obvious solution was to purchase something and charge it to the surgery account but despite the turmoil in his head, he was lucid enough to realise that he really did not want to turn up on Louisa's doorstep with a bag of medical supplies. How lame would that look? He already believed that she thought he was too dedicated to his job. He could always take the supplies back to the surgery but he was already ten minutes late and that would make him later still, plus he would run the risk of encountering the villagers that he had so successfully managed to avoid. He hated being late and believed that punctuality was a virtue. But he must come up with an answer to Mrs Tishell's question.

She was still looking at him with a rapacious gaze and he felt beads of sweat breaking out on his brow. He must purchase something that was small enough to fit easily into his jacket pocket. He scanned the store in consternation but everything seemed to be too large. Immediately next to his right shoulder were small boxes of...

"Condoms."

To his consummate horror, he realised that he had actually articulated the word that was running through his mind. His face went as red as a beetroot, he felt like his insides were undergoing surgery without the saving grace of anaesthesia and his sweaty palms gripped the parcel, almost turning it into papier mache. Mrs Tishell was equally aghast! BANG went the second nail! But, she was not a she-devil for nothing. Now to make him pay – and she didn't mean in the monetary sense either.

With a shrewish smile she said "Of course Doctor. What size would you like?"

What size? Martin had no idea! He had never used condoms before and he didn't stock them at the surgery. How did one buy condoms? He knew there was something to do with textures, colours and possibly even flavours, but size? He nervously shuffled from one foot to the other, tugging at his tie and feeling like a court jester. Mrs Tishell was patiently waiting for an answer, enjoying his discomfort. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"Err...Well ... Um... My height is six foot two and my weight is ..."

"No Doctor. I meant the size of the box. Did you want a ten pack, a twenty or a fifty? I wasn't referring to the size of your ... physical attributes."

Mrs Tishell closed her eyes and imagined what she could do if she got her hands on those 'physical attributes.' She would show him what a real woman was! He wouldn't be chasing around after that bimbo once he had sampled 'Sally's specialities.' With a little shake of her head she roused herself from her reverie.

"It depends on how REGULARLY you will be using them. If you are using them A LOT then I would recommend the fifty. They are more economical. Or perhaps they are for the surgery?"

Martin was just about to agree that they were for the surgery, but realised that would make him look even more ridiculous as he had just described his physical attributes so they were obviously not for the surgery. By now he was sweating buckets and wishing that a tributory bolt of lightning would strike the pharmacy.

"Um...Yes... Fifty will be fine," he managed to gasp.

Mrs Tishell handed him the box and he hastily shoved it in his jacket pocket and turned to leave. Mrs Tishell went in for the kill.

"Shall I put that on your business account Doctor?" said Mrs Tishell stepping forward with stealth.

Martin was rooted to the spot and slowly turned around realising that he had no way of paying for the condoms. He _definitely_ did not want them going onto the surgery account. Pauline handled all of the accounts and her eagle eyes would spot a purchase like that a mile off. Pauline knew that they did not stock condoms at the surgery and it would seem like too much of a coincidence for The Doc to decide to suddenly stock them at a time that corresponded with him getting interested in Miss Glasson. Pauline would have a field day with that one. He remembered for the second time that his credit cards were at home and he never carried loose change in his pockets. With blood pressure skyrocketing, he only had one option available and he took it, like a drowning man's last plea for help.

"No. Put it on my private account."

BANG went the third nail, as Mrs Tishell's countenance dropped. Martin wrenched open the door, knocking over an entire stand of children's shampoo with a Basil Brush logo on them and escaped the lair as fast as he could.

Mrs Tishell sighed. "I could just eat him with a spoon."

 _To be continued_

A/N – I realise that a doctor would be very familiar with condoms but chose to employ this literary license in order to make the scene more humorous.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Martin hated obscenities, thinking them crass and uncalled for, but in this case, he was prepared to make an exception. Spitting out expletives not fit to be heard, he escaped to the sanctuary of the Men's Conveniences & looked at himself in the mirror. He was appalled at his appearance. He couldn't turn up to Louisa's looking like this! His face would have attracted a marauding bull, he was glistening in sweat, his hair was sticking out at odd angles, his clothes were dishevelled and the wrapping paper was crumpled.

He was furious with himself. How had he allowed this to occur? Why were these things always happening to him? No wonder he was the village buffoon! Martin had an exceptionally powerful IQ, but he simply did not have the life skills or emotional maturity to realise that embarrassing situations happen to all people. Unlike most people, who have a sufficiently developed sense of humour to laugh off such situations, learn from them and then move on, Martin aggravated awkward circumstances by inadequate social skills and allowing them to fester in his mind, resulting in a heightened emotional reaction.

He glanced at his watch and realised he was now fifteen minutes late. He must get a move on. He splashed some cold water on his face, attempted to flatten his hair, straightened his apparel, smoothed out the wrapping and applied wet paper towel to the back of his neck. He took a steadying drink of water and a few deep breaths. He felt his pulse and although still rapid, he did detect some improvement. He would have liked his sphygmomanometer to check his blood pressure but was fairly sure that it had dropped a few millimetres of mercury.

A condom vending machine on the far wall was ridiculing him and he had an uncontrollable urge to throw a brick at it, but, as with many of life's crises, 'you can never find a good brick when you need one', so he satisfied himself with merely glowering at it.

"Doc! I thought I saw you come in here" cried Penhale walking through the entrance.

"Oh God "thought Martin.

"I have this problem."

"Make an appointment."

"How can I put this? I'm not one for feeling myself but ... "

"Make an appointment."

''I have a lump ... on my danglers. Please Doc, just a quick look. I gotta know. Is it a benign hydrocele or is it a cyst or is it ...you know?"

"MAKE AN APPOINTMENT" boomed Martin as he pushed past Penhale.

Muttering snide asides, he looked up the hill to his destination. Only about a hundred yards now. Surely, nothing else would prevent him from taking those final few steps.

"DOC!" hailed Bert gleefully. "Just the man I wanted to see."

"OH GOD! "snarled Martin to himself.

"It's my back, see? It's still playing up. Walking up this hill is killing me and ..."

"MAKE AN APPONTMENT!"

"Medical emergency, is it Doc? Right, you are then. I won't keep you. But you don't have your medical bag with you. Oh, I see. You have your 'tools' in that 'package'. Hurry on then Doc." Bert announced with a rakish twinkle in his eye. He loved baiting The Doc.

Bert's voice was increasing in volume and started to echo up the narrow street. Martin noticed that several neighbours were now looking, in a curious fashion, out of their windows and reaching for their mobile phones. It was almost as if Mrs Tishell, Bert, Penhale, the teenagers and the nosy neighbours were bounty hunters after his blood. Well, Mrs Tishell was after more than his blood, but let's not go there! The very thought made him shudder. He had an instant vision of Mrs Tishell, bounty hunter, handing him over to the authorities and they were asking her if she wanted to be paid in 'cash or kind?'

"Kind," she said, longingly looking at Martin. "Oh, definitely, kind. I prefer to be paid by the hairy chequebook."

"Get a grip, Ellingham," Martin chided himself for the second time that evening. "This isn't the Wild West!" Although the thought did strike him that living in the tumultuous days of the Wild West could not have been any more difficult than being the GP in present day Portwenn – 'Have Stethoscope – Will Travel.'

This was so unfair! This was so _grossly_ unfair. He was just an ordinary man wanting to visit an ordinary woman for a pleasant meal. Was that too much to ask? But, if the truth be told, Martin was not an ordinary man. Louisa had already identified that he was an extraordinary man. How could an extraordinary man expect to live an ordinary life?

Martin looked up and saw the summit only about fifty yards away. How many more obstacles would he have to pass as he ran the gauntlet to Louisa's haven? Taking a covert look around to check that there were no more members of the posse out to get him, he took a few determined strides forward. He conquered his Everest, scaled his final peak and arrived triumphantly on Louisa's doorstep. He straightened his jacket, took a deep breath and tapped smartly on the door.

 _To be continued._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Louisa, I'm so sorry I'm late," gasped Martin.

"That's fine Martin. I know that your patients can hold you up. You must have had a busy afternoon. You look a little dishevelled. There's no rush. Come in."

"This is for you," said Martin handing her the parcel.

"Oh Martin!" exclaimed Louisa excitedly ripping off the wrapping. "A lovely bunch of ..."

"Kale ...very high in iron ... a good accompaniment to the yams."

"Thank you Martin," said Louisa flatly. "I'll just put these in water."

"No, they don't need water," said Martin, missing the sarcasm. "Just keep them wrapped in the paper, in the vegetable crisper of your refrigerator and use within three days."

"Hmmm. While I'm doing that, could you please pour us a drink? It's on the terrace."

Martin stepped onto the sunny terrace enjoying the lovely view of the small harbour. Louisa had decorated her terrace with various plant pots and ornaments and in the centre was an attractive, small table with two comfortable chairs. Two expensive crystal champagne glasses and a crystal decanter, filled with iced water, were on the table. Martin poured himself a glass of water and was hesitant about pouring a second. Maybe she would prefer wine?

Louisa had already decided that this night would be alcohol free. The night at his house had been ruined by excess consumption of alcohol and she was determined this time, that whatever they said or did, would be free from the influence of alcohol. Plus, she didn't want Martin passing out on her again. How embarrassing would it look trying to drag him to his own home in the middle of the night?

Martin decided to pour Louisa a glass of water as she had stipulated pouring "us" a drink. He knew that she enjoyed a nice glass of wine and thought it was very sweet of her to drink water for his sake. She stepped out onto the terrace and he handed her a glass.

"Waterford?" he enquired.

Louisa smiled. Trust Martin to recognise a quality product. "Yes. They were given to me a while ago as a birthday present, but I've never had an opportunity to use them. I was saving them for a special occasion."

Martin thought that it was enchanting that Louisa had considered dinner with him a special enough occasion to break out the expensive glassware. Maybe after such a bad start to the evening, things were finally starting to improve?

"Have a seat Martin," said Louisa as she sat down and they exchanged a few pleasantries. "It really is a very warm evening. You still look rather hot and flustered. Why don't you take your jacket off?"

"Er ... Right."

Martin stood up, removed his jacket and gave it a rather vigorous shake to remove any creases before he carefully placed it on the back of his chair. Unfortunately, the shake dislodged the box of condoms and they came flying out of his pocket and landed with an almighty thud on the pavers. Martin went into a complete state of cryogenics. He stared down at the box in absolute horror. The words "EXTRA SENSITIVE" and "LUBRICATED" were screaming out at him from the box.

"PICK THEM UP!" his brain was shrieking at him but Martin's central nervous system had completely deserted him and he was literally frozen on the spot and incapable of movement. This was worse than the episode at the pharmacy! What on earth must Louisa be thinking? To turn up as a dinner guest at her house, with a box of condoms in his pocket must appear ...POSITIVELY PRESUMPTUOUS! Up went the blood pressure, his sweat glands went into overdrive and yet he still could not retrieve that offensive article. How much worse could this night be?

While all of this was passing through Martin's mind, Louisa was sitting there with her body convulsing in giggles that she was desperately trying to conceal. Her initial reaction when she saw the box was shock. Even though she had mentioned seducing him when she had become drunk at his house, he had seemed rather astonished. Her second reaction was delight. So Martin was planning on staying the night then? She was never really sure what his expectations of the night were. She was enraptured that he had planned far enough ahead to provide protection for them but he was a doctor after all. Her third reaction was amusement. Why wasn't he picking the box up? Why was he just standing there like a statue? She felt her body shaking uncontrollably and bit down hard on her lower lip to stop herself laughing, but then she started to feel sorry for his cryogenic state and knew she must do something to retrieve the situation.

"I'll just go and fetch the starters."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Louisa's voice awoke Martin from his stupor. He hastily picked up the offending box and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. With heart racing, he took a quick look inside the house and seeing that Louisa was not in the room, he swiftly poured some of the iced water from the decanter into his hands and threw it on his face. He leaned as far out over the railing as possible, in order to catch the cool breeze. He had never been so embarrassed in his whole life – not even when he had walked in on Aunty Joan, having her Oedipal encounter on her kitchen table with the painter. That acute embarrassment had been further exacerbated when he had later warned her that osteoarthritis and sexual intercourse on kitchen tables didn't mix. Poor Louisa! She must be so disappointed in him – so offended. How could he ever look her in the eye again?

In the meantime, Louisa was upstairs having a good laugh in the privacy of her bathroom. She too splashed water on her face, checked her appearance in the mirror and when she felt sufficiently composed, calmly walked downstairs. She only got halfway down when she realised the implications of the previous scene, so she hurried back up into her bedroom, tidied up and lit a scented candle. Louisa had not been a Girl Guide for nothing – be prepared! After going downstairs, she deliberately procrastinated in the kitchen in order to give Martin some extra recovery time. She could tell he was still in a tizzy, as he was fidgeting and muttering to himself.

"Here they are," said Louisa placing a plate of delicious looking hors d'oeuvres on the table. "Sit down and help yourself."

As a rule, Martin never ate hors d'oeuvres, believing them to be 'salmonella en croute', made the previous day by unwashed strangers, but he had previously got himself into trouble by questioning Louisa about her dental hygiene standards and was, therefore, not going to investigate her food hygiene standards. He sat down, but was still incredibly unsettled and could not meet her eye, so he quickly stuffed three hors d'oeuvres in his mouth in rapid succession in order to avoid looking at her and look like he was occupied. Unfortunately, Louisa had been a little heavy handed with the chilli. His eyes started to smart, his throat was burning and he started to splutter uncontrollably.

"Are you alright?" asked Louisa.

"Hmmm," hacked Martin reaching for his water and downing half of the glass in one gulp.

"You don't look alright.''

"I'm ... fine..." wheezed Martin. "It ... just went ... partially down my trachea ... instead of my oesophagus."

Louisa could see that Martin was still very uncomfortable so she chatted gaily about some amusing incidents that had occurred at school that day. Martin's insides were still writhing in mortification but every so often, he stole a surreptitious glance at Louisa. She didn't seem offended at all! In fact, she seemed rather uplifted. Women were such strange creatures. He would never understand them. Martin realised that he would have to start contributing to the conversation soon, as Louisa was putting in all the effort and the opportunity presented itself when he heard a child's voice from next door.

"New neighbours?" He enquired.

"Yes. Mrs Averill moved out last week. Do you know her?"

"Yes. She is a patient."

"Did you ever meet Mr Averil?"

"I only met him once to confirm that he was dead – he was."

"Well, these new people are the neighbours from Hell. Always over here, borrowing stuff and then I just can't get rid of them. You must know what that's like, Martin? When people come to visit you and then they just don't seem to want to leave?"

"No."

"Anyway, their names are Antony and Terri."

"He wouldn't happen to be a six foot, imaginary, talking squirrel, by any chance?"

Louisa laughed heartily. "Oh Martin, a joke! Well done! By the way, have you seen Stuart the ranger recently?"

"Not recently. He seems to have given up his penchant for smashing bird houses and is doing quite well."

"Well, Antony is a senior lecturer at the Department of Applied Psychology at the University of North Cornwall."

"Bude Polytechnic."

Louisa chuckled. "He says that mainstream parenting isn't their thing and uses nonsensical words like 'child centric.' They don't discipline their son at all."

Martin's lip curled in distaste. "I see that all the time, at the surgery."

"Sam, the son, is a nightmare at school. He won't wear uniform, is nasty to the other kids and has been caught keying staff cars. When I mentioned it to Antony, he actually said, 'Oh, I wish he wouldn't do that' as if it was some sort of annoying hobby. Then he accused the staff of being 'precious' about their cars."

"Sounds ghastly!"

During this conversation Martin was beginning to notice a particularly disgusting odour wafting in from the direction of the 'neighbours from Hell's' house. Louisa pulled a face.

"What is that horrible smell?"

"It seems to be coming from Tony and Theresa's house."

"Antony and Terri. Look, there is smoke too. I'd just better pop next door and check that everything is ok. Won't be long."

Martin remained on the terrace for a few minutes longer but the fumes were now billowing onto Louisa's property so he carried the drinks and nibblies indoors and closed the terrace doors. Even inside, the house was rather pungent so he fossicked in Louisa's cupboard and managed to find a can of air freshener which he sprayed around liberally. He brought his jacket indoors and decided to put it on. He liked to dress formally for dinner when he was a guest.

About five minutes later, Louisa came flying through the door, looking furious and completely dishevelled. Her face, hands and clothes were black with soot; her hair was a mess and her clothes stank.

"You would not BELIEVE what that bloody woman is doing!"

Martin looked mute enquiry.

"She is burning a badger!"

"WHAT?"

"Yes! She said she found a dead badger in her garden and wanted to give Mr Brock a traditional Hindu send off with a funeral pyre!"

"But that is a major public health risk! She could be spreading bovine tuberculosis!"

"That's what I said, so to put out the fire she actually sprayed it with water and the wind changed and the whole steaming, stinking mess wafted all over me. That woman is as mad as a cut snake!"

"Badgers. Cats. Dogs. This village is like a petting zoo," said Martin with distaste.

"Martin, I'm going to take my clothes off."

Martin's eyes widened.

"I mean ... I'm going upstairs ... to change my clothes ... into something fresher," stumbled Louisa. She put one foot on the bottom step and then turned to face Martin. "I do feel sorry for Sam, having a mum and dad like that. But maybe we're not being fair? I mean ... we're not parents. Are we?"

"You'd make a lovely mother."

Martin's face immediately blanched. The comment sounded so... so... well, he wasn't able to put his finger on it exactly, but he felt extremely self conscious. He hoped he hadn't offended Louisa or appeared too forward. His diagnostician's eye examined her face and he noticed that Louisa blushed. She actually blushed! He was enchanted and felt a little tug at his heartstrings. In a world where women were often pushy, brash and outspoken, to actually find one who was old fashioned enough to blush at an innocent compliment, was like a breath of fresh air.

Louisa gave a small smile and disappeared upstairs.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Louisa stood in the middle of her bedroom in a daze. Her cheeks were burning and her pulse was racing. What had just happened downstairs? Martin had paid her a huge compliment, possibly the nicest compliment she had ever received. It was also the first compliment he had ever paid her, because she wasn't counting the inebriated "you're so very beautiful" at his house. Louisa adored her career, but always had hopes of rounding her life off with husband and children. However, at the age of thirty seven, she was increasingly beginning to despair of ever meeting a man that she would be willing to spend the rest of her life with. There was also the issue of the biological clock – she wasn't getting any younger. Imagine having Martin's child! If it had its mother's looks and its father's brains then it would be formidable indeed. The intermingling of Ellingham and Glasson genes could not fail to produce anything other than powerful human soup. Surely their relationship had taken a giant leap forward by his innocent and spontaneous remark? She felt as though an unseen hand had casually flicked a page in her book of life and she was now embarking on the next chapter.

But time was ticking away. She must not keep Martin waiting any longer and dinner would be ready by now. She hastily removed her smelly clothes and selected a crisp, cotton floral dress from her wardrobe, then hesitated. There was no need to change her underwear, as they were not smoky at all, but she remembered the box of condoms in Martin's pocket so she decided to change into her best bra and undies. No utilitarian, one hundred percent cotton, passion killers for Martin. It was going to be satin and lace all the way! She went into the bathroom, scrubbed her hands and face and sprayed copious amounts of perfume. However, the odour of smoky flesh was still about her and she realised that it was coming from her hair. She badly needed to wash it but there simply was not the time. She doused her hair profusely with spray on, leave-in conditioner which had a nice scent, pinned it on top of her head and decided that it was passable.

In the meantime, Martin was looking around Louisa's house and finding himself becoming increasing mellow. In the wake of the remembered blush, he was now starting to feel very comfortable in her home and was noticing things for the first time – the furniture, pictures, knick knacks and personal touches that reflected her loving nature and made the house really seem like a home rather than a surgery. She had laid the table very attractively with a pretty floral cloth, delicate tableware and a lovely bunch of bright yellow daffodils.

"Sorry that took so long Martin," said Louisa breezing into the room trailing a delicious aroma. "You must be starving. Dinner is ready."

"Can I help you with anything?"

"No, it's fine. I can manage. I will just put everything onto a serving platter and then we can just help ourselves."

Martin watched Louisa as she took the food out of the oven and transferred it onto a serving platter. God, she was beautiful! She was wearing a very feminine pastel dress that hugged her curvaceous figure perfectly. The hair piled up accentuated the graceful carriage of her head and she also moved like a dancer. His face softened and all he could do was stare.

"Louisa ... you look very ... busy."

Louisa turned to look at Martin, again with a slight blush. "Thank you," she whispered.

Martin saw that Louisa had finished putting the food on the platter so he picked it up and carried it to the table for her. "Royal Doulton?"

Louisa laughed. "Yes. You sound like a bit of a brand Nazi. It's another gift that I haven't really had much of a chance to use."

Martin coloured. He wasn't trying to show off his knowledge of the finer things in life. He was merely attempting to indicate that he appreciated the fact that she had tried to make the evening memorable by using her special possessions. Louisa noticed his discomfort and also that he seemed to be anxiously hovering beside the table. Why didn't he sit down? She then realised that he was waiting for her to be seated until he sat down himself. So she quickly poured the sauce into a small jug, carried it to the table and sat down. Martin then seated himself. The gesture also tore at her heartstrings. What a considerate, old fashioned, chivalrous man he was. Louisa considered herself a liberated woman and realised that this token was purely the result of good manners and as a sign of his respect for her, not as an attempt to undermine her gender.

"This looks delicious, Louisa. Thank you."

""Help yourself. I thought I would just keep it simple until I got used to my new cooker. It is baked trout with baked vegetables and the sauce is a lemon and dill cream sauce."

"Optimal nutritional value."

"Yes. Always an important consideration when planning a menu," smiled Louisa but she could see that Martin did not pick up on the pun.

They ate in silence for a while and then Louisa reached for the salt mill.

"You know the potatoes actually contain enough sodium?" said Martin.

"Oh right. No, I didn't know that. It's just that I think they taste better with a pinch."

"Water retention. Too much sodium can lead to bloating."

"With me, personally, do you mean?"

"No." After a few minutes of silent eating Martin said, "Um. What are your plans for the rest of the evening?"

Louisa looked rather disconcerted. "I thought you were going to be staying ... for a while".

"Right."

"Of course, you don't have to. You can just head on home then, after dinner if you want. But I have a fruit platter afterwards."

"No! No! And ... and ... I'd... I'd ...like that. I mean ... if you wanted me to stay ... for a while ...that would be fine ... it would be good. " Martin pushed the salt mill towards her. "Have some salt," he said, taking a gulp of water.

 _To be continued_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Martin had been gulping down so much water all night that he badly needed to use the lavatory.

"Erm ... Louisa. Can I please use your bathroom?"

"Of course. It's upstairs. You can't miss it. I'll just get the fruit platter."

Entering Louisa's bathroom felt like invading her private domain. Martin hung his jacket on the hook, on the back of the door and looked around. He had rarely been in a woman's bathroom before and found it a curious place, with her toiletries, make up and personal items all around. There was also a sweet, feminine smell, unlike his own slightly sterile bathroom.

He washed his hands and reached for the towel which was on the heated towel rail, dislodging about eight items of underwear that Louisa had placed on the rail to dry. In an agitated fashion, Martin picked them up and examined them. What on earth, were they? He had seen plenty of female underwear before, in the surgery, but nothing like this! Most of what he saw at the surgery seemed to be supplied from army surplus. He had never heard of g-strings or thongs. These garments were all lacy and filmy and seemed to actually have very little fabric in them. He was fascinated.

"Martin. Can you find the towel?" called Louisa up the stairs, breaking his musings.

"YES! ... I'm fine," panicked Martin. "No need to come up!" He certainly didn't want Louisa coming into the bathroom and seeing him fondling her intimate apparel!

He hastily tried to replace the items back on the towel rail but because they were now totally dry and lightweight, they kept falling off again. For every one he managed to get on, he dislodged another two. It was just like a jigsaw, as he wanted to put them in exactly the right order, otherwise Louisa would think he had been groping her underwear.

"BUGGER!" he exclaimed, sweating profusely. In the middle of his blustering, the thought occurred to him that he would have to drop his suit at the dry cleaners tomorrow. It had been acting like a sponge all evening.

Finally he managed to piece the tessellation together and he very carefully placed the towel over the top. He realised there was still one item on the floor and he picked it up, staring at it with curiosity. It was black, lacy, sheer and minimal. He then had a vision of Louisa wearing it and broke out in a hot flush. For the first time, Martin experienced sympathy for his menopausal patients. To settle himself, he washed his hands and face in cold water and reached for the towel and then paused. He didn't want to start the whole complicated process again, so he looked around for a tissue to dry himself with, but there were none. He decided to pat his face and hands dry with toilet paper and went downstairs after putting his jacket back on. He sat down and noticed that Louisa was staring at him oddly.

"Um ... Martin ... There's something stuck on your left eyebrow."

Martin reached up and discovered a wad of wet toilet tissue firmly attached to his face. He hastily ripped it off, pushed it in his pocket and said quickly,

"This looks very nice."

"It's just a selection of summer fruits and berries with a honey and yoghurt dipping sauce. I really ..." Louisa was now staring over Martin's left shoulder. "Er ... Martin ... It's my ...bra" she said hesitantly, pointing at his shoulder.

Martin swiftly turned around as if expecting Louisa's bra to be levitating in mid air. He felt a 'snap' on the back of his neck.

"So sorry. I hung it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door. It was trailing down your back." Louisa hastily threw it in the nearest cupboard. By now they were both red faced and Louisa knew she had to find a topic of conversation promptly.

"Do you watch much television?"

"No. Only the news."

"I like comedy. My favourite show is _Men Behaving Badly._ I just love Martin Clunes. He is so funny."

"I can't stand him. I think he's a tosser. He couldn't act if his life depended on it."

"Better change the topic," thought Louisa. "There must be something we have in common."

"Have you travelled much Martin?"

Louisa had inadvertently found a topic of which Martin had a great passion. He had travelled extensively and was not unwilling to describe his experiences. Nor was he an inconsiderate talker, dominating the conversation. He asked her about her holidays and even though she hadn't travelled much, he seemed very interested and they shared opinions on destinations they had had both visited. The conversation flowed nicely, in between nibbling at the fruit. Louisa was pleasantly surprised at this articulate Martin and continued to ask him questions.

"So did you travel mainly with your parents, or with friends, or alone?"

"All three."

"But I thought you used to visit Joan in the summer holidays?"

"I did until I was eleven and then my parents stopped sending me. So they used to take me abroad every year. I think it was because they didn't want me hanging around the house – it was easier to go away."

"I bet you didn't travel much in your uni days? I know what that's like. Trying to survive on part time jobs. The cost of student accommodation and text books."

"Well, that's actually one area in which my parents weren't remiss. They paid for everything – my tuition fees, on-campus accommodation and textbooks. They even gave me a generous travel allowance every summer. I don't think they wanted me to come home."

"But, Martin. If your parents lived in London and you attended university in London, then why did you need student accommodation? You could have lived at home."

"My parents said that they wanted me to have the whole university experience – the clubs, the sport, the fraternity. Again, I just don't think that they wanted me living at home, after so many years at boarding school. It was handy though, living on campus, with the libraries and labs."

"Where did you travel to?"

"Europe mostly. Also the United States and Canada. But further afield also – Australia, New Zealand, Fiji, even the Cook Islands."

"The Cook Islands! I have always wanted to go there! I saw it on that travel show on the television and the travel reporter said it was her favourite holiday destination on the planet. I thought that was a pretty high recommendation coming from someone whose job is to travel around the world."

"She would have been referring to Aitutaki. We only went to Rarotonga, but it was still the most stunning place I have ever seen and so unspoiled by mass tourism. Aitutaki Lagoon recently overtook Bora Bora Lagoon as the world's most spectacular lagoon in the Traveller's Choice awards. It's a honeymooner's paradise."

"It all sounds absolutely wonderful."

"It was, but ..."

"But what?"

"I have seen some amazing places, but ... they all seem worthless ... unless you have someone to share them with," Martin said with difficulty.

Louisa looked concerned. "Tell me about it."

"There is one incident that really illustrates what I'm saying. A few years ago I was standing at Mrs Macquarie's chair."

"Mrs Macquarie's chair?"

"It's not actually a chair. It's the name of a lookout point on Sydney Harbour. From there you can get three hundred and sixty degree views of the harbour – the city skyline, Opera House, Harbour Bridge, North Shore, The Heads, the Eastern suburbs, the Botanic Gardens and Farm Cove. It is sensational. Well, I was standing there looking at this world class view and I felt te..." Martin stopped abruptly and swallowed. Louisa noticed his eyes glistened and her heart lurched.

"It's ok. Please tell me."

Martin took a few moments to compose himself and with a deep breath said, "I'm not very good at explaining things."

"Please try. I'm sure I will understand."

"I was standing there and felt tears in my eyes. At first I thought it was because I was so moved by that unbelievable view and that is true, to some extent. But then I felt a great hollowness also and realised how much better that experience would have been if I had someone there to share it with me. It would have meant so much more."

"Oh Martin!" whispered Louisa with a tremor in her voice. She reached across the table and lightly placed her hand over the top of his.

He stared down at it, mesmerised. The gentle hand on top of his reminded him of something, but what? Then it came to him.

"Louisa," he said tenderly, gazing into her eyes, "I have the results of your stool sample."

 _To be continued._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Louisa realised that they had been sitting at the table for quite some time. "These chairs are getting rather hard. Why don't you sit on the sofa where we ... you will be more comfortable. I'll make some coffee."

Martin looked nervously at the sofa and started to clear the table.

"There's no need to clear up. I can do that later."

"No. You did the cooking."

Louisa noticed that Martin was very meticulous in the kitchen, thoroughly rinsing everything before stacking it in the dishwasher. He then carefully wiped down the table, bench tops and sink. Martin was quite enjoying pottering around the kitchen with Louisa. It had a very domesticated feel. Louisa finished making the coffee and was waiting for him on the sofa. Martin was about to wipe down the stove top but Louisa stopped him.

"Just leave that. Your coffee is getting cold."

Martin tentatively walked over to the sofa, but was unsure where to sit down, as she had two sofas, plus an arm chair. He noticed that she had placed his coffee next to hers, on the table right in front of where she was sitting, so he apprehensively sat on the same sofa as Louisa, but at a considerable distance.

Louisa noticed the divide, plus the fact that he appeared jittery. She attempted to introduce new topics of conversation, but his replies were minimal. She was rather disappointed that things had gone so well over dinner, but now he seemed to be closing up. In an effort to bridge the gap, she kept inching towards him every time she leaned forward to pick up her coffee cup. She decided to place her hand on the sofa, between them, as that had previously worked in the taxi, but Martin still remained unresponsive. They had now finished their coffee and the atmosphere was getting quite strained as conversation had ground to a halt. Martin had one hand on his knee and Louisa gently placed her hand on top of his. She felt him tense up immediately. She turned to face him.

"What is it, Martin? You seem very uptight. Have I done or said something wrong?"

"No ...no!" he reassured her. "It's not you. It's never you. It's me."

"Well, what about you?"

"I said before that I'm not good at explaining things," he said awkwardly.

"You were very good at explaining how you felt on your travels. You need to trust me. Please just say whatever is on your mind."

Martin was silent for quite some time and then took a few deep breaths. "I have really enjoyed myself tonight."

"That's great, because I have enjoyed myself too."

"Sharing your food, working in the kitchen together, getting to know you. It feels so ... _right."_

"I agree, Martin. So what is the problem then?"

"But you must see, Louisa," Martin paused, swallowed and struggled, "that it could never work between us. This is as far as it can get."

"But why is that? You just said that it felt right being together. Why not let that feeling develop?"

Martin said nothing but shook his head.

"Come on, Martin. If you have something to say, then say it. Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

"Yes," he said reluctantly. " We can't ever have a relationship ... because it wouldn't be fair on you."

"In what way?"

"I'm ... I'm ... not good enough for you." His face was very distressed and he dropped his eyes but not before Louisa had seen the moisture.

"That is absolutely ludicrous, but you must have some reason behind it and I intend to find out. When I came to your house for a drink, I wanted us to have a really big talk and it didn't eventuate. Well, that is going to happen. Now!"

"I don't really ... talk."

"I know, but we have been dancing around each other forever, it seems, and I think it is crunch time. We need to get everything out in the open. I need to understand your concerns, but I'm not going to ask you to talk just yet. You are too tense at the moment. I'm going to get you to relax and then we will thrash it out."

Louisa stood up and opened the terrace doors. It was a beautiful night with a full moon and she felt that the cool breeze that had sprung up would be refreshing. The smell had now dissipated and the sky was scattered with twinkling stars. She then turned the lights off as the room was sufficiently bathed in light from the moon. She also lit a scented candle and played some very soft, instrumental music.

"Give me your jacket and tie," she requested.

Martin still looked miserable but he handed the items over to her. She carefully placed the jacket on the back of the chair, in order not to dislodge any of the contents. She sat back down on the sofa, in a semi recumbent position and pulled Martin towards her so that his back was facing her front. She believed that it may be easier for him to talk if he wasn't actually looking her in the eye.

"Just lean on me. We won't say anything for a while. Enjoy the view and try to unwind." Louisa wrapped her arms protectively around Martin and held his hands. He didn't try to resist. Every so often, she gently kissed the top of his head and gradually felt his tension dissipate.

It certainly was therapeutic, lying there silently, looking up at that alluring sky and hearing the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore. Martin was calmed by the regularity of her breathing, her delicious scent and the warmth exuding from her body, but he still did not believe that she could convince him that a future was possible for them.

"Alright then, Martin," said Louisa gently after a considerable time had lapsed. "What's all this rubbish about you not being good enough for me?"

Martin sighed. "I will try to explain. But I'm sure the explanation will be ... inadequate."

"Just do your best. I'm listening."

"There are two main reasons why a relationship with me would not be fair on you. The first one is that I would drag you down. You grew up in this community, you are well respected, you hold down an important job. The children love you, the parents love you ... everyone loves Miss Glasson. I've seen how you are with the children and with people generally. You are charismatic, you say the right things and are popular with everyone. I am the laughing stock of the village. They call me a tosser. They have no respect for me. I just don't fit in here. If we were together, they would all be wondering what on earth you saw in me. They would feel sorry for you and probably lose respect for you. I can't allow that to happen – I care for you too much."

"Phew, Martin! You take my breath away with your compliments. What lovely things to say, but there are quite a few flaws in your reasoning. Firstly, I'm a grown woman and make my own decisions about who I do and don't go out with. Secondly, if I was genuinely interested in someone, I couldn't care a toss about what anyone thought. Thirdly, _you_ hold down a vitally important position in this community. The health of this entire village is a million times better than when Dr Simm was here. Everybody thinks the same."

"I'm sure they don't."

"Dr Simm was a very lovable man, but he was getting a bit past it towards the end. We would mostly see him for a nice cup of tea and a chat. The most we would ask of him would be an analgesic or antibiotic. If you don't believe me, then check your medical records. If we had anything more serious, then we all went to Wadebridge. Since you have been here, no one has gone to Wadebridge. That is why your waiting room is always so packed. I think you are gifted. I have seen you, time and time again, perform life saving surgery, in unusual places, with whatever equipment that just happens to be lying around. If that's not talented, I don't know what is. We are so lucky to have you here. Everyone feels so safe, knowing that we have a brilliant doctor to look after us."

Martin shook his head in disbelief.

"I can prove it to you. Dave, the postman, says that he knows more gossip than anyone in the village but that's not true. The people who hear the most gossip are the teachers. Children are great talkers, both in the classroom and in the playground. Also, every morning and afternoon there are lots of parents gossiping around the school gate and if I hear the word 'Doc Martin', then I cautiously sidle up and eavesdrop."

"So you overhear them calling me a tosser then?"

"Well, yes, occasionally. But more often than not, these days, I hear a comment such as – 'my hubby has been suffering with ... for years and we have been to so many doctors. He saw Doc Martin last week and he picked the problem straight away and my hubby has been a new man ever since.' If you left, this village would be seriously worse off."

"If that is the case, then why don't they say it to me?"

"It's not their way, Martin. I think they like to take people down a peg or two. But believe me, they do appreciate it. You also said that you don't fit in here but I think you are beginning to belong. The fact that people tease you, shows that they care – it makes you part of the community. If they thought you weren't worthy of their attention, they wouldn't give it. They tease everyone. It's part of the village camaraderie. Like it or not, you're part of us now and I believe that you do feel more at home here than you used to. Over the months I have seen a softening of your attitude towards us and you seem more relaxed in your surroundings. It probably wouldn't be obvious to anyone else but I have been observing you and it's definitely there."

Louisa remained silent for a few minutes in order to allow Martin time to digest this information. He was thinking carefully about what she had said. While only a few patients had actually expressed their gratitude, he had noticed that his schedule was getting increasingly busier and that he was getting a lot more new patients from further afield. Also, he remembered the type of patients and surgery he performed in London. It was faceless – initial consult - perform the surgery – follow up consult. One never got to know the patients and as a vascular surgeon, he only dealt with the one type of patient. In Portwenn, his diagnostic skills were properly challenged with new cases presenting every day. A colleague had once told him that a specialist was a doctor who had lost his confidence as a diagnostician. When he thought about it like that, he felt more satisfied with his move to Portwenn. He may have lost his confidence as a surgeon, but he was now taking on whole, new challenges. He had previously regarded Portwenn as a mere stopgap until he could overcome his phobia, but he saw now that he was actually making a difference, that Portwenn could also be a worthwhile career move. He hadn't realised this until Louisa had stressed his importance in the village. He always said that he had no interest in getting to know his patients, but he felt he had been of genuine aid in the Roger Fenn case and there were several others that he had helped, by investigating their family background, medical history, environment and other factors. In the case of Penhale's agoraphobia, his immediate response had been to report him, but Aunty Joan had said that a more humane approach had been needed and she was right. It was quite gratifying and did give him some sense of belonging, now he thought about it. Louisa interrupted his reflections.

"You said there were two reasons why it wouldn't be fair on me. What is the other?"

"I have too much emotional baggage. I would be a burden on you."

"I know you have had problems in the past. My childhood wasn't wonderful either, but I've come to understand that what is in the past, should remain in the past. We can't let it ruin our future. Have you considered counselling?"

"Psychoanalytical claptrap."

"It's not always like that. There are a few kids at school who we have sent for some counselling for various issues and it has worked wonders for them. Sometimes all you need is just to get things off your chest and out into the open. Why don't you tell me about it? I may not be able to say anything to actually help but I'm a good listener."

"I wouldn't want to bore you with it. Anyway, it's my problem."

"But Martin, it's actually _our_ problem if it is going to prevent you from forming lasting relationships and hiding behind your shell every time someone gets too close."

"But it's personal."

"And therein lies the problem. If you keep it to yourself and don't seek help, either with me or a counsellor or even maybe Joan, it is just going to fester and never resolve itself."

"I'm not sure," said Martin reluctantly shaking his head.

"Well, just tell me a few things then. At least that's a start. Take your time. There's no rush. I won't interrupt. You have already shown me tonight that you _can_ talk when you want to."

Martin remained silent for many minutes. He did feel very comfortable in her home and in her arms. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say and was being quite persuasive. However, he had an all encompassing fear that whatever he said to her may drive her away and ruin the friendship that they already had.

As if reading his thoughts, Louisa said, "I _really_ want to help. Please let me."

Very hesitantly, Martin briefly told Louisa about the visit of his parents to Portwenn several months ago. He described how his mother had said that he had ruined her life and that he had never been wanted. It was very arduous for him and he faltered frequently.

"So it was like a revelation," he said tremulously. "It was as if my whole useless, neglected life were suddenly spread out in front of me, to be examined. Sent off to boarding school at a young age, not wanted at home during school holidays or while I attended university. Sent off to Aunty Joan's or to travel the world on my own. My mother didn't mince her words – she didn't want her own son and I was ruining her marriage. It was then that I made the decision not to inflict myself on anyone – ever."

Louisa felt his pain. Her heart smote to the core. This unappreciated man had not experienced the love and security of a family. No wonder he put up barriers when she tried to get close to him. Well, she was going to change all that. He was so worthy of being loved. There were many things she could have said but she was simply incapable of speech, with a huge lump in her throat. She felt tears on her cheeks but made sure that Martin did not see them, as she thought he would remain silent if he knew she was distressed.

As it was, Martin could not say any more, but seemed content to lie in her arms. She tenderly stroked the side of his face and squeezed his hand. In time she felt his body become heavy and his breathing slow down and realised he had fallen asleep. He was overwrought with emotion, the poor thing. Louisa continued to stroke him gently and shortly after, she too drifted off to sleep.

 _To be continued_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Louisa awoke with a stiff back. She looked across at the clock and realised they had been asleep for an hour. The music had finished, the scented candle had burnt out and the room was starting to get chilly. Martin was still slumbering peacefully. She didn't want to wake him but in attempting to adjust her position to a more comfortable one, he awoke with a start.

"I'm so sorry! I fell asleep on you."

"That's fine. I've had a bit of a nap too. I must close that door. It's getting quite cold in here."

Martin sat up and Louisa closed the door and turned a lamp on. She sat down next to him and he put his arm around her and drew her close. She nestled her head into his neck and enjoyed the warmth of his body. They remained in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the closeness and the tranquillity.

"Thank you for listening to me," Martin said quietly.

"I will listen to you anytime. I hope it helped." The memory of his confessions brought a tear to her eye. The diagnostician noticed immediately.

"You're very emotional, Louisa."

Louisa remained silent.

"Are you wearing perfume?"

"Yes."

"Is it sandalwood?"

"No. It's Kenzo Flower."

"I wondered if it was pheromones. Androstenone five has a, sort of, sandalwood odour. It's the pheromone associated with the onset of a menstrual cycle. Am I right?"

"A woman doesn't have to be getting her period to be a bit emotional!" snapped Louisa angrily, pulling away from him.

She sat in the far corner of the sofa, looking extremely offended. Her mouth was in a grim line and she stared straight ahead. Martin was devastated. He had blown it yet again! He didn't know exactly what he had said to hurt her, but it was obvious that she was very upset. Several moments passed while a dozen thoughts went through his head. What could he say to her? He was completely dumbfounded about what to do to retrieve the situation. He seriously considered leaving, but was astute enough to realise that if he walked out of her door, it would be irrevocable. They had tried and they had failed so many times. She couldn't be expected to have him stringing her along indefinitely. But then, he also thought about how he _had_ opened up to her tonight, he _had_ revealed himself to some extent and he _had_ felt solace in her arms. There had been a definite connection this evening. Wasn't she worth fighting for? He turned to face her and moved slightly forward.

"Louisa ... I'm so terribly, terribly sorry," he said with contrition. "Please tell me what I have done wrong."

Louisa looked at him grimly. "You're so intelligent, DOCTOR Ellingham," she declared with a hard, sarcastic edge. "You tell me why I am emotional."

"Ah ... well ... Perhaps you are premenstrual?"

"No, I'm not!"

"Er ... a lot of pregnant women are frequently emotional. Is there any chance that you're pregnant?"

Louisa was rather taken aback!

"How could I be pregnant?" She managed to keep a stern face but the absurdity of the question suppressed her temper to some extent and she found the enquiry rather humorous. Martin could be so obvious sometimes.

"Are you saying you're not?"

"Yes."

"Good ... I mean ... Right."

Martin felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He had never been sure of the extent of Louisa's relationship with Danny. But then he realised that the comment did not necessarily mean that they hadn't slept together. It could also mean that they _had_ slept together, but had taken appropriate precautions. The thought made his blood boil.

"Keep going Martin. You really are on a roll," she said with some derision.

"Well there are actually a number of medical reasons why you could be emotional. I think that ..."

"NO Martin! Not everything in life can be explained by medicine."

"Oh, a psychological reason then? My Aunt Ruth is a doctor in London and ..."

"NO Martin! Not a medical OR psychological reason. Just an everyday reason, to do with humans and feelings and sentiments."

She could tell that Martin didn't have a clue about what she was talking about. His face was a picture of bewilderment.

"Ok then. I can see that I'm going to have to spell it out for you. The reason I'm emotional is ..." her voice lost its harshness and shook a little. ".. Is ... because ... I'm in love with you."

Martin's face registered utter astonishment. His mind went into chaos and he couldn't grasp a single rational thought.

"MARTIN ELLINGHAM! You would have to be the most frustrating man in the world! Why are you looking at me like that? You KNOW I love you. I've told you before."

"Yes, but we were both drunk at the time!"

" _I_ wasn't! I told you the next day. I was perfectly sober then."

"Yes, but you were also hung over and I told you that you could have ... er..." Martin stopped abruptly. It was better not to go there.

"De Clerambault Syndrome. Yes, I remember that quite clearly. Thank you very much!"

"Well, as I said later, perhaps my diagnosis had been a little hasty."

Martin then experienced an epiphany as the full weight of Louisa's declaration finally sank in. His face was incredulous and his eyes were shining.

"You love me?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

"Yes Martin. I love you," replied Louisa shakily.

"You _really_ love me?" shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes Martin. I _really_ love you."

He gazed at her with an overwhelmed expression and his eyes filled with tears. With a penetrating stare he slowly and lovingly leaned forward to kiss her, only closing his eyes at the last second. The kiss was _mind blowing!_ Louisa had never experienced anything like it. His full lips were tender and sensuous and he held the kiss for a considerable time before breaking it and continuing the penetrating look as if he could see into the very depths of her soul.

But Louisa wanted more of that exquisite kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaned her body into his and kissed him. He eagerly responded. His arms encircled her waist, his firm hands pressed into the small of her back and he pulled her towards him. Louisa lost all concept of time. She was only aware of the heat radiating from his body, the intoxicating smell of him and those sensational lips. She was dizzy with delight! She increased the intensity of the kiss and he matched her all the way. She could feel his heart thumping.

"Let's go upstairs," she uttered breathlessly.

Martin looked startled. "We ... I ... can't"

"Of course you can. I want you to stay the night."

"... I ... can't ," he repeated.

"Yes you can. We are two consenting adults. Why can't you stay?"

"Because ... because ... I ... I ... don't want to have sex with you!" he blurted.

 _To be continued_


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

With a sharp intake of breath, Louisa sat upright, as if hit by a bolt of lightning. The pain was exacerbated by the knowledge that she had foolishly affirmed her love for him, but he hadn't reciprocated. So, he was only after friendship then? He didn't see her as a desirable woman? She had sensed such a positive change in him tonight and all for nothing? She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so hurt. Martin could see the suffering in her face, the dejected attitude and how the spark had deserted her eyes.

"NO! NO! Louisa! ... Louisa!" he cried, frantically, trying to grasp her hands. "That came out all wrong! Please let me explain! PLEASE!"

"You'd better have a BLOODY good explanation for this one, Dr Ellingham!" she retorted savagely.

"I'm always saying the wrong thing! You know that! ... The reason why I don't want to have sex with you is because ... because ... I want to _make love_ ... to you..." he gulped.

"What's the difference?" asked Louisa warily. She didn't attempt to withdraw her hands from his firm grip, but she didn't respond either.

"There's a big difference. The medical definition of sex is the sexual union between a male and a female, carried out for procreation or pleasure. In other words, it's just a physical act. Even animals have sex. In veterinary medicine it's called mating. That's not what I desire for us. I don't want just a physical union, but also a meeting of hearts, mind and souls. I want the whole, harmonious union. I don't want to just seduce you. If I did, I could have easily done that on the night you came to my house."

"No, you couldn't. You were drunk," Louisa said, fascinated.

"But if I seriously wanted to seduce you, I wouldn't have allowed myself to _get_ drunk. I know the effect alcohol has on me. I knew exactly what you were up to. I'm not a complete idiot. But I wasn't going to take advantage of you like that. I respect you too much ... I love you too much."

"You love me?" Louisa exclaimed with a gasp.

"More than I have ever loved anyone and more than I knew it was humanly possible to love."

Louisa threw herself into his arms and sobbed into his neck. He held her tightly and buried his face in her hair while tenderly stroking her back. In time, her crying subsided and Martin took a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently dabbed her face. This only served to make her tears flow faster. He was so old fashioned. No one used handkerchiefs these days. Sometimes he could be so ... so ... bloody gorgeous! She looked down and saw that he even had his initials embroidered on it. He attempted to put the handkerchief back in his pocket but Louisa gently extricated it from him and put it in her own pocket with a smile. She had an oblique thought about a scene in her favourite film, _Sense and Sensibility._ In the movie, Edward Ferrars gave Elinor Dashwood an embroidered handkerchief to dry her tears and Elinor had kept it as a talisman. Elinor Dashwood got her man in the end and Louisa Glasson was determined to do the same! She was suddenly struck by the similarities between Martin and Edward – shy, awkward, vulnerable, lacking confidence, taciturn, dependable and totally devoted to the women they loved. Taking her glowing face in his broad hands, Martin kissed her damp cheeks and eyelids.

"But, Martin. I still don't understand. We have both said that we love each other, therefore it _would_ be making love,not just sex."

"But for our first time I want everything to be ... perfect! The perfect place, the perfect time and the perfect moment."

"And you don't feel that my bedroom would be the perfect place?"

"For our second and subsequent times, yes. But for our first time, I feel it needs to be on neutral ground."

"It's not a sporting match," she laughed.

Martin gave a small smile. "No, but the concept is the same. One of us would be at a disadvantage. I want us to be on equal footing. I even felt awkward entering your bathroom. It felt like I was invading your private domain. We both need to be at ease."

"So not the perfect time either?"

"Definitely not. Tonight has been very emotionally charged. It's not the right time to be making rash decisions. Entering a physical relationship is a huge undertaking. It needs to be considered in a rational light. Tonight we aren't intoxicated with alcohol, but we are intoxicated with emotion."

"And obviously not the perfect moment?"

"I have unloaded a lot of personal problems onto you tonight and told you things I've never told anyone. In the cold light of day, you may think that a future with a man with so many psychological hang ups is simply too much to cope with. Tonight you have seen me naked. Er ... er ... I'm speaking metaphorically ... you have seen me emotionally naked. Imagine how you would feel if we slept together and tomorrow morning you regretted it. I don't think I could live with myself. I'm just trying to protect you. Also, I have known couples who have had great relationships that have been spoiled by rushing into physical intimacy."

"Yes, I've known people like that too," Louisa sighed and then smiled. "I can't believe that you love me."

"If I were the teasing type, now would be the appropriate moment to say – 'Louisa Glasson! You would have to be the most frustrating woman in the world. Why are you looking at me like that? You know I love you. I've told you before.'"

Louisa laughed heartily. "That's the second joke you've told tonight. If I didn't know you better, I would say that you are enjoying yourself."

"I _am_ enjoying myself."

Martin kissed her gently and the kiss quickly turned passionate. Louisa carefully pushed Martin back onto the sofa and once again entered into that exhilarating sense of timelessness. Electricity was emanating from his body, his breathing became more rapid and she could feel his arousal. Martin was also in a state of euphoria. He was immensely conscious of her fragrance, the softness of her skin, the curves of her beautiful body and the ardour she was bringing to this exquisite moment. He also had never experienced anything like this. He could feel his resolve melting quickly. Would it really hurt if he stayed the night? 'Yes', his brain answered him, but he could not drag himself from this state of bliss. The clock struck midnight.

"Saved by the bell," thought Martin gently extricating himself and sitting up. "I'm sorry, Louisa," he said, "I had no idea it was so late. I must be going. I hope you understand. I'm just trying to protect you."

"I _do_ understand."

Louisa handed him his jacket and tie and walked him to the door. He took her in his arms and there it was again – that penetrating stare followed by the silky, lingering and sensuous kiss and finalised by the look of adoration that spoke volumes.

"Louisa," he said in a hushed tone. "Everything I said to you tonight ... about loving you ... its true ... all of it. You are the most important thing in my life."

Louisa gave him a watery smile, not trusting herself to speak, but hoping that the message she conveyed in her eyes would be enough.

"Sleep well, my darling," he whispered, giving her a soft, benedictory kiss on the forehead and stepped out into the blessed coolness of the night.

The die had been cast.

 _To be continued_


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Martin enjoyed his walk home in the refreshing night air. The village was completely deserted and the salt air in his nostrils was invigorating. The whole village seemed to be enveloped in an ethereal charm and he felt, that until now, he had never appreciated its beauty. Walking away from Louisa's house had been extremely difficult, but he knew it was the right thing to do. Who knew how she would feel about him in the morning?

Emotionally exhausted, he fell asleep almost immediately and slept solidly, awaking to feel completely rejuvenated and is if he had been given a new lease on life. So how did he feel about Louisa this morning? Martin had good self knowledge and was able to diagnose himself as accurately as his patients. His diagnosis told him that that he felt the same about her this morning as he did the previous night. He definitely didn't regret telling her that he loved her and that she was the most important thing in his life. In fact, he felt as though a huge weight had been lifted. Louisa had been correct in stating that they had been dancing around each other for too long. His declaration of love for her was way overdue and he hoped that the time factor had not, in any way, diminished the weight of his message. He then tried to ascertain how he felt about revealing his innermost thoughts regarding his parents and his past, and waited for himself to cringe – but it didn't come. It actually felt strangely liberating to finally unload some of the baggage and surprisingly, he didn't have any lasting regrets. He felt as if she had handed him the world when she had said that she was in love with him.

The gargantuan question, of course, was how she now regarded him, after their night of self revelation. Did she have any regrets about what either of them had said? Did she feel that she simply did not want the responsibility or effort of Martin's psychological traumas? The ball was firmly in her court. Martin had no idea what the long term prognosis for their relationship would be, but he did appreciate that their next encounter would be a crucial one.

He wasn't sure that he would effectively be able to concentrate through his working day without knowing how she felt. If he phoned her, he was fairly confident that he would be able to diagnose her feelings, by the tone of her voice and her responses, but he was afraid that if he phoned her too soon, then he could scare her off. She needed time to digest the events of the previous night and make her own decisions. It was better to let her contact him when she was ready, but Martin felt that until she did, his life was hanging in the balance. He dressed, went downstairs and made some coffee.

"Hello Marty," said Joan, walking in the back door. "I've brought you some vegetables."

"Good morning."

"I just saw Sally Tishell in the village. She's in a very bad mood. Do you know anything about that?

"No," said Martin quickly.

"I just dropped some vegetables at Bert's. He will probably be in to see you today. He said that his back is the bain marie of his life."

"The bain marie?"

Joan rolled her eyes and shook her head. Taking a few steps towards him, she said with a smile, "Well, well, well. Don't you look like the cat that ate the double cream this morning?"

Martin busied himself with the coffee machine. "Would you like a coffee?"

"Stop changing the subject. So ... you had a good night, last night then?" Joan asked in a confidential tone.

"How do you know about last night?" Martin asked defensively.

"Marty! Half the village saw you go into Louisa's house at six forty five and you didn't leave until after midnight."

"What is the matter with these people?" snapped Martin. "Don't they have anything better to do?"

"Well, not really," said Joan, after giving it some thought. "It was a bad night on the telly last night. Plus the bingo in the village hall got cancelled, then the Fish Appreciation Society AGM was postponed and then the 'Ten Easy Steps to Menopause/Manopause' meeting was at Annie Duff's house and she lives a long way out, so no one went."

"Annie Duff?"

"You met her at my sixtieth. She considers herself the society queen of Portwenn. She'd go to the opening of an envelope."

"There aren't ten easy steps to managing menopause, and manopause is just a myth."

Joan smiled. "You won't be saying that in ten years time, or so."

"Bingo, Fish Fanciers, menopause meetings ... are there any other riveting Portwenn social events that I have been missing out on?"

"Well, next weekend is the 'Stockbrokers in Crisis Polo Picnic.'"

"Aunty Joan, you cannot tell me that there are people wealthy enough in Portwenn to be playing the stock market, or that they would be losing enough money to be in crisis about it, or that they can sit a horse, or that they know how to play polo!"

"Just a joke, Marty ... Just a joke." She patted her nephew on the back and asked with a suggestive raise of her eyebrow, "So it was a _good_ night then?"

"Er ... Yes ... But not in the way that you are thinking," said Martin turning red.

"Glad to hear it. No need to rush into things. Well, I must be off." Joan walked to the door and then turned back. "Oh, by the way. Are you doing anything for Louisa's birthday?"

"Louisa's birthday?" asked Martin with surprise.

"Yes. It's in four days time, on Saturday."

"Oh ... well ... I ... er ... could organise some trifle ... I suppose," Martin said, trying to appear casual although his pulse was racing.

Joan smiled secretly, walked out the door and then poked her head back in.

"Shall I organise a polo pony for you next weekend, Marty?"

Martin pretended to shove her out the door and Joan chuckled as she ran down the path. She loved baiting her nephew. She hoped she had done the right thing by playing Cupid, but she knew that sometimes Martin needed a nudge in the right direction and based on his dazed countenance, he probably wasn't capable of making rational decisions at the moment.

Martin, meanwhile, was standing in the kitchen in a trance, his thoughts warring with each other. Aunty Joan's remark about Louisa's birthday had been a godsend. He now had a perfectly reasonable excuse for phoning her and organising another date. However, his rational and reticent nature made him hesitate. He had already decided that she needed time and that she should make the next move. But if he didn't make the invitation soon, then she would make other plans. She was a very popular woman, after all. The thought of him missing out, prompted him to take his coffee into the reception area and sit down at Pauline's desk. He realised his hand was trembling as he picked up the phone. He took a deep breath to steady his nerves and dialled the familiar number. The few seconds it took for Louisa to answer the phone seemed like an eternity. Within a few moments he would know how she felt about him and he believed, to some extent, that this precarious phone call could determine the rest of his life.

"Hello."

"Good morning Louisa."

"Oh Martin. How nice to hear from you. Did you sleep well?"

"Very well, thank you. And you?"

"Like a log actually. I didn't realise how tired I was."

"Yes, it was a long night ... I hope I didn't say anything ... to offend you?" he asked cautiously.

"Not at all. As I said last night, I will listen to anything you want to tell me."

Several seconds passed in silence while Martin tried to determine Louisa's feelings. She certainly sounded pleased to hear from him and the fact that she had just said that she was willing to listen to him indicated future contact. Now was the time to ask her out, but his courage failed him.

"I just wanted to ... thank you for a memorable evening," he said, his insides writhing.

"You're very welcome. I hope you had a good time. I did, anyway."

Another awkward silence prevailed while Martin admonished himself. "Come on Ellingham," he thought. "Get some intestinal fortitude."

"I was wondering ..." he hesitated, "but you probably already have plans ... but I was wondering ... if, on your birthday ... you would like to ... have dinner ... with me?"

"That would be lovely, Martin!" she cried with delight. "Some of the girls from work were planning to take me to the pub for drinks, but that can easily be moved to Friday night."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I'd much rather have dinner with you. Shall I book something? I probably know the local restaurants a bit better than you do."

"Well actually, I was hoping we could go outside the village. We always seem to get interrupted. I already had somewhere in mind."

"What's the name of the restaurant?"

"Is it alright if I surprise you?"

"Sounds exciting, but what is the dress code, so I know what to wear?"

"It's formal."

"Ooh, it's sounding even more thrilling!"

"The only problem is ... it is over an hour's drive away or would you prefer something closer?"

"That's great. It will be nice to get out of the village and get dressed up."

There was an additional question that Martin wanted to ask Louisa, but he simply could not. It sounded so bold, so forward and so audacious. The silence was again becoming strained.

"I was just thinking," said Louisa tentatively, "that if this restaurant is a long way, then we could be getting home quite late. These dark, narrow, country lanes can get a bit dangerous at night. I was thinking ... that maybe ... well, that is ... I was wondering ... if there was perhaps ... a hotel nearby ... it would be safer than driving home ..." She gave a small cough. "But not if you don't want to, of course," she added quickly.

Martin heaved a huge sigh of relief. It was exactly what he wanted to ask her. "Actually, the restaurant we are going to is in a large hotel. I will make a reservation there."

Louisa also sounded relieved. "Thank you. That would be ... nice. And Martin?"

"Yes?"

"Make sure you tell me what I owe you. I will chip in, of course."

"Not at all. This is my birthday gift to you."

"How very kind," she said warmly. "You really don't have to do that."

"It will be my pleasure."

"Thank you very much. Now I really must be heading to school."

"Of course. Is it alright if I pick you up at four thirty on Saturday?"

"Yes. I'll be ready. See you then."

"Goodbye."

With a colossal sense of satisfaction, Martin put the phone down. Not only had Louisa sounded pleased to hear from him, but she had readily accepted his invitation and changed her own plans to accommodate his. In addition, she had suggested an overnight stay. These were not indicators of a woman who was sceptical about getting involved with a man who had unresolved personal issues. He felt that he was on cloud nine.

It was now time to move forward.

 _To be continued_


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Martin made several more phone calls and then continued to sit at Pauline's desk, deep in thought and making plans. He wanted to buy Louisa a birthday gift and realised that he would have to do his shopping in Truro, to avoid prying eyes. Pauline entered the front door and smiled knowingly when she saw him sitting there. The village was buzzing with the news that Doc Martin had spent over five hours at Miss Glasson's house last night. Anything could happen in five hours! It must have been quite the pyjama party!

"Mornin' Doc. Sleep well?" she asked smugly.

"Pauline, I want you to cancel all my appointments for Friday afternoon. Reschedule them. I'm willing to work later in the evenings to fit them all in" said Martin, walking to his consulting room.

"But Doc, Friday afternoon is our busiest time of the week."

"Yes, but I have to go to Truro ... for a meeting," he said evasively, trying to escape into his room.

Pauline suppressed a chuckle. She knew that there was no meeting – this had something to do with Miss Glasson. Like Bert and Joan, Pauline also loved baiting The Doc and this was too good an opportunity to pass up. She was going to milk this for all it was worth.

"But Doc. We always find out about your meetings a month in advance."

"Yes ... well ... this just came up ... at the last minute."

"Nothing serious I hope. I'll come with you and take the minutes then."

"No! That won't be necessary."

"Well, who will take the minutes?"

"Ah, I believe one of the other doctors will be taking her receptionist."

"But she may not do shorthand as well as I do."

"You don't do shorthand."

"Er ... That's right ... I don't. Well, I will phone the conference centre for you and confirm the room and time."

"No ... No ... It won't be at the conference centre this time," said Martin with discomfort.

"But it's always at the conference centre. Where is it Doc?" Pauline was hugely enjoying herself.

"Um ... That's still to be confirmed ... They will email the details ... sometime today."

The phone rang and Martin quickly escaped to his room.

"Portwenn surgery," said Pauline, picking up the phone.

"Pauline. It's Sally Tishell," said Mrs Tishell in a clipped tone.

"How are you Mrs Tishell?"

"I've been better," she retorted abruptly. "I'm phoning to cancel my appointment for tomorrow."

"Would you like another appointment for next week?

"No thank you. I've decided to transfer to the Wadebridge surgery."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can I ask the reason?"

"Well, let's just say that I haven't been happy with the _quality of service_ that I have been receiving from Dr Ellingham. Good day." She brusquely hung up.

"DOC," shouted Pauline. "That was Mrs Tishell on the phone. She said that she is transferring to the Wadebridge surgery. She said she isn't happy with your quality of service."

SLAM went the consulting room door.

"I bet Miss Glasson can't say that she isn't happy with the _quality of his service,_ " snickered Pauline, her body shaking with laughter.

Throughout the day, Pauline found The Doc to be very distracted. He had a preoccupied air and disoriented expression. He also looked oddly uplifted.

"Ain't love grand?" thought Pauline with a sigh.

But she was actually finding the day ... boring. There had been no fits of temperament from The Doc, no tantrums, no snide remarks about her incompetency, no shouting "NEXT PATIENT" and not a single person left the surgery in a huff! She decided to stir him up a little and do things that would irritate him, just to witness his reaction. She deliberately handed Mr Clarke's file to Martin when he escorted Mrs Lewis into his consulting room. Mr Clarke suffered from haemorrhoids and Mrs Lewis was booked in for a gynaecological exam so it was, at least, in the same region. She sat in eager anticipation of Martin's reaction, but was disappointed when, in a benign fashion, he walked to the filing system, helped himself to Mrs Lewis' notes and returned to his room without saying a word.

The phone rang and Pauline decided not to answer it. That would get a rise out of him, for sure. After ringing for a long time, she then heard Martin take the call himself and he didn't reprimand her when he next came into the reception area. What a letdown. It was now lunch time and Pauline decided that she would be fifteen minutes late returning to the surgery. The Doc was such a stickler for punctuality. That would really annoy him. But, upon arriving back after lunch, Pauline found that he had already commenced afternoon surgery and had helped himself to the relevant files.

"Ok then," thought Pauline mischievously. "Time to pull out the big guns."

The waiting room was packed with patients. With a wicked grin, Pauline boiled the kettle and handed everyone a steaming cup of tea and then, as the _piece de resistance,_ passed around a plate of biscuits. She returned to her desk and innocently looked at The Doc as he came forward to pick up the notes for Mrs Shaw.

"Come through, Mrs Shaw," he said.

"I 'aven't finished me cuppa tea yet," Mrs Shaw mumbled in between bites of biscuit.

"That's fine. Bring it through with you."

Pauline was flabbergasted! "Poor Doc," she thought. "He must have it bad!"

She decided to take pity on the love struck man and didn't tease him for the remainder of the day. The afternoon passed uneventfully and she was hoping that The Doc would return to his normal self tomorrow.

"BYE DOC," she called, walking out the door. "See you tomorrow."

Martin walked into the reception area. "Ah, Pauline."

"Yes?"

"NO cups of tea!"

Pauline cackled to herself, but she had a trump card up her sleeve and decided to play it.

"Oh, by the way Doc," she said innocently. "I still haven't received that email about the venue of the meeting in Truro."

Martin knew he had been clinched and walked back into his room, with his tail in between his legs, while Pauline left, waving the victory banner.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

On Friday afternoon, Martin enjoyed a leisurely drive to Truro. As he listened to his classical music, he thought deeply about the previous few days. He had not seen or spoken to Louisa since he had invited her out and he realised that he missed her. In the past, he had usually been content with his own company, but after experiencing the sense of belonging at Louisa's house, his own home seemed rather lonely and lacking in warmth. He had deliberately avoided going into the village, so that he would not run into Louisa, as he wanted to give her as much space and thinking time as possible. He had sent Pauline in for his fish and pharmacy requirements and this was a wise decision, as rumour had it that Mrs Tishell was still in a foul mood and was snapping at everyone who ventured into her shop. He was excited about the upcoming weekend but also rather apprehensive. They would be alone together for a considerable time and therefore, he would have plenty of opportunities to say or do the wrong thing.

There were three items that he wished to purchase in Truro, but seriously doubted whether he would be able to find the third item. He had searched the internet to confirm that Truro had the type of shop that he was after, but questioned whether its merchandise would be of fine enough craftsmanship or quality to satisfy him. If that proved to be the case, then he would need to take a trip to London at a later date and Louisa's birthday gift would be belated.

His first port of call in Truro was the florist, where he ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to the hotel room, the following afternoon. He realised that red roses were very traditional, but Louisa had given him signs indicating that, in some areas, she quite liked the conventional approach. Portwenn actually possessed a small florist, but he definitely didn't want it passing around the village like contagion, that Doc Martin had sent Miss Glasson red roses.

His second stop was at a newsagent to purchase a birthday card, but after perusing many, he decided that they were all too flowery and overly sentimental. He finally found one that strongly appealed to him. It was of a severe Elizabethan character wearing an elaborate ruff around her neck, but upon opening it, the inscription read "commiserations on your loss" so, with a sigh, he replaced the card and exited the shop in search of his third and final destination.

The third shop was only a few hundred yards down the street and he was reassured to see that the shop front looked very exclusive and that the items displayed in the window were of exceptional quality. The sales assistant was extremely knowledgeable and within a short time, Martin found exactly what he was looking for. In fact, it actually surpassed his expectations and he drove back to Portwenn in a very satisfied frame of mind.

The following morning, Louisa stood in her bedroom thoughtfully surveying the items she had laid out on her bed. For the past few days she had given careful consideration to the clothes she wanted to take with her and was now checking to see that she had everything she needed and that she was satisfied with her choices. Firstly, she packed her toiletries, makeup, jewellery and a nice evening bag. These were easy decisions, as she usually wore minimal make up and simple jewellery. Now, shoes! She packed her high heeled dressy shoes for the dinner and left a lovely pair of strappy sandals next to the bed, to be put on later for the drive to the hotel. She added a pair of sports shoes to her bag, in case they went for a walk and then decided that she may need a sturdier pair of casual shoes, so she retrieved her Doc Martens from the wardrobe.

She then added her casual clothes to her suitcase and took a final look at the dress that was hanging on the back of her door, which she would put on later. She wanted to look pretty, but not overstated, when Martin picked her up. Assuring herself that the dress was the correct choice, she then frowned over her underwear. She had laid out her best bras and undies plus an elegant full length, white, satin negligee but would Martin actually get to see them? She had no idea what his intentions were for this weekend. She had seen him emotionally naked – would she now get to see him physically naked? She wasn't even sure if he had booked one room or two? The hotel was definitely 'neutral ground', but that only ticked one of three boxes. He may decide that it was neither the perfect time, nor the perfect moment.

Louisa decided that she needed to be philosophical about the whole situation. She had learnt in the past that it was best not to rush Martin and that it would happen when he was ready. She wanted him to desire her as much as she desired him. For the moment, the knowledge of his love was enough to keep her going. That had been a complete revelation, combined with the fact that he had expressed himself so fervently. Still, she was highly curious about his potential in bed. Based on the intensity of his kisses and his responsiveness to her signals, she believed that he possessed latent sexual dynamite and she was also confident that she held the spark to ignite him. She carefully packed her underwear and negligee, and then decided to add plain, cotton pyjamas as well. She didn't think she had the heart to be lying alone in a bed wearing that seductive negligee. It would be like dressing up for a party and then no one showed up.

Her thoughts suddenly turned to contraception and for the first time she questioned why Martin had turned up to dinner with a box of condoms in his pocket if he wasn't planning on using them? She was completely baffled – Martin was such an enigma sometimes. She walked to the bathroom cupboard to take her contraceptive pill and pack them in with her toiletries. She looked at the empty packet and remembered that she had taken the last one the previous night. That wasn't a problem, as she had a repeat prescription, but having heard about Mrs Tishell's vicious temper all week, she really wasn't looking forward to an encounter with her in the pharmacy. For some reason, Mrs Tishell's attitude towards her always seemed distant. Louisa looked at her watch and realised there wouldn't be enough time for her to go to the Wadebridge pharmacy to get the prescription filled, as she had an appointment at the Portwenn salon in half an hour. Logic told her that a tussle with 'The Tishell' would be infinitely preferable to an unwanted pregnancy, so she would have to call into the pharmacy after her salon appointment. Martin had no idea that she was taking the pill. She preferred to see a female gynaecologist in Truro.

Louisa was now fully packed, except for her dress for the dinner date, and here she was very undecided. She had three short, cocktail dresses that were all probably quite suitable, but for their first real date, she wanted to really 'wow' Martin. She looked at the only formal dress she owned and decided to try it on. There was no doubt about it – if she wanted to blow Martin away, then this was the obvious choice. The dress was long, very tight fitting and had a provocative split up to the thigh and would look sensational with the formal shoes she had chosen. The bodice was well boned, giving the effect of a push up bra, and it was low cut and strapless. However, Louisa had two main concerns. The dress was white, lacy and was tastefully decorated with white beads and sequins – it looked distinctly bridal. She bit her lip with indecision. She didn't want to scare Martin off or look presumptuous. The thought then occurred to her, that while Martin was very perceptive at recognising possible medical symptoms in people, he was not overly enlightened with matters pertaining to women. She could probably risk it. Secondly, she was apprehensive about the paleness of her skin, which was not a good look against the stark white of the dress. She picked up her phone.

"Hello. This is Louisa Glasson here. I have an appointment with you shortly for hair and nails. Is there any chance that you could fit me in for a spray tan? There is? That's great. Be there soon. Thank you."

Several hours later, Louisa entered the pharmacy.

"Good afternoon Miss Glasson. How nice to see you," said Mrs Tishell icily? "Your hair looks lovely. Special occasion?"

All week she had been putting up with rumours about Doc Martin spending five hours at Miss Glasson's house and to see Louisa breezing in, looking delectable, was like rubbing salt in the wound.

"Actually, it's my birthday."

"Many happy returns of the day. Will you be doing anything... special?" Mrs Tishell probed.

"I'm going out for dinner."

Mrs Tishell's ears pricked up. "Oh, how ... nice. With friends?"

"Well ... with _a_ friend."

"I hope you have ... a good time," Mrs Tishell said, sounding as though she didn't mean it.

Louisa handed over the prescription.

Mrs Tishell raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. "Microgynon 30? I guess you must be taking this for ... irregular periods?"

"No, I'm taking it ... er ... Yes... irregular periods ... can be quite inconvenient at times."

Mrs Tishell muttered to herself as she handed the box to Louisa and took her money. "Well, you could hardly need it for any other reason. I mean ... your boyfriend has returned to London."

Louisa was rather annoyed. She understood that a pharmacist had a duty of care to inform customers about the side effects of drugs, but the rest was none of her business! However, Louisa was more than capable of going into battle with flags flying and asked flippantly,

"Oh, by the way. How is Clive?"

Louisa could almost feel the daggers flying from Mrs Tishell's glare as she left the pharmacy.

 _To be continued_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

At four o'clock Martin carried his suitcase and garment bag containing his dinner suit downstairs and placed them near the front door. He then returned to his bedroom and looked indecisively in his wardrobe for an outfit to wear for the drive to the hotel. His first instinct had been to wear a suit, but this was a special occasion and he really wanted to look ... nice, for Louisa. He also remembered that she had once said that it would be great to see him out of a suit. He rarely gave any thought to his clothes, just donning a suit every morning and taking it off every night. Fashion was of no consequence to him. He did own a small range of casual clothes which were all impeccably tailored and he pulled them out now, wondering if he had the confidence to wear them. Remembering that Louisa was always dressed stylishly, he decided that the least he could do was to dress up for her.

Martin dressed carefully in a pair of beautifully cut, tan, casual chinos and a crisp, long sleeved Ralph Lauren shirt. The shirt was pale blue and white stripes which perfectly enhanced the vibrancy of his eyes. He then chose a pair of handcrafted, R.M. Williams, elastic sided, leather riding boots from his wardrobe. The silver ring that he always wore on his right hand needed an accompaniment, so he added a silver Longines watch. He thought he looked a little strange with no tie, so he chose a thick sterling silver neck chain, but realised that it couldn't be seen, so in a daring fashion, he undid three buttons. He looked at himself in the mirror and decided he looked passable.

Martin went back downstairs, cautiously looked out the front door and saw that the coast was clear. As he was placing his suitcase and garment bag in the boot of his car, he heard a large group of raucous teenagers exit the house only a few doors up from his. They were laughing and shouting as they made their way down the hill. Martin kept his back to them and pretended he was busy in the boot. All of a sudden there was dead silence. Martin turned around quickly, fearing there had been an emergency and saw the teenagers, rooted to the spot and staring at him, with mouths agape.

"DOC! You look ..." said one teenager, confounded.

"NORMAL!" said another, in astonishment.

Several seconds of silence passed, with everyone frozen in shock and then they spied the suitcase.

"Oooooh. Going away for the weekend?"

"Blimey! It's a Louis Vuitton suitcase – it must be somewhere special."

"Or with SOMEONE special," shrieked another.

This brought a cacophony of whooping from the girls who continued down the street. Martin raced inside and upstairs to his bedroom mirror. Obviously, his outfit was too over the top. He needed to tone it down ... so he did up one of the buttons. There ... that should do the trick. It was now time to go. Martin drove the short distance to Louisa's house, parked the car and opened the boot.

"Excuse me Sir!" yelled Penhale, running up the hill. "You can't park there. I've got... Oh, sorry Doc! I didn't recognise you. You won't be long will you? There is a wide load coming through here in fifteen minutes."

"No."

Penhale spotted the suitcase. "Going away for the weekend? Somewhere special? With Miss Glasson? Well, you have a nice time."

With a red face, Martin noticed that Louisa's door was ajar, so he made his escape.

"Louisa," he called, stepping through the door. He saw her suitcase and a garment bag in front of him.

"I'm upstairs Martin. I won't be a minute."

"Can I take your luggage?"

"Yes please."

Martin carefully laid the garment bag flat on his back seat to avoid any creases. The bag was black plastic, so he couldn't see her dress, but it felt rather heavy. He then lifted Louisa's suitcase into the boot and heard a howl from behind.

"OH MY GOD!"

Martin turned and was horrified to realise that the same group of teenagers had just witnessed him putting Louisa's luggage into his car.

"He IS going somewhere special!"

"And WITH someone special!"

With screams of delight, the teenagers raced down the hill, spreading the word far and wide, that Doc Martin was going away for a dirty weekend with Miss Glasson. The Portwenn mobile phone network went into meltdown!

Martin flew into Louisa's house, struggling for composure, as he heard her walking down the stairs.

"Sorry to keep you waiting. I was ... OH MARTIN! ... You look very ..."

Louisa stood in front of him, completely dumbfounded. He looked so ... so ... so HANDSOME! She had never seen him out of a suit and the casual genre was definitely his style. She noted, with detail, the expensive cut of his clothes, the aesthetically pleasing addition of the jewellery and the grace with which he wore his outfit. She felt that she had fallen in love with him all over again. Previously, she had fallen in love with the vulnerable man within. Now she fell in love with his dashing persona. How much potential did this man have? All he needed was the love of the right woman to encourage and nurture him.

Martin, in turn was staring at Louisa. "Louisa ... You look very ..."

He thought that she looked a picture of loveliness. Her hair was softly curled and framed her face. She wore another of her pretty, crisp, pastel dresses, accompanied by a few delicate pieces of silver jewellery. Her makeup enhanced her natural beauty and her finger nails were highly polished in a dainty shade of pink. For quite some time, they both stood in silence, surveying the other.

Bereft of adjectives and having established that they both looked "very ...", they walked out to Martin's car.

"Have a great weekend. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," called out Penhale, from the bottom of the street.

Louisa smiled and Martin quickly opened the door for her and then ran around to the driver's side.

"What was all that screaming I heard before?" questioned Louisa.

"Oh. Nothing. Nothing."

"Excuse me, Martin." Louisa leaned towards him and undid the third button of his shirt. "There. That looks better."

The streets of Portwenn were literally thronged with people who came to farewell Miss Glasson and Doc Martin on their romantic tryst. Many people waved and smiled at Louisa, but a great many more gave the 'thumbs up' signal to Martin. There was also a lot of cheering and honking of car horns. Louisa smiled and found it rather amusing. Martin was irate, but realised there was nothing he could do about it. Mrs Tishell heard the commotion and shot out of her pharmacy. She saw the silver Lexus drive past with Louisa looking like a goddess. She sighed.

"Look after him. Look after him well," she said wistfully.

So, with the shouts and cheers of the villagers ringing in their ears, Martin and Louisa drove out of Portwenn.

 _To be continued_

A/N – I really enjoyed dressing Martin in this chapter and wanted to get him out of the dark suits and shoes. Please Google R.M. Williams boots if you are unsure what they are.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Martin and Louisa enjoyed their drive and the time passed quickly. The route was extremely scenic and Louisa was very knowledgeable about local landmarks and history, which Martin found interesting. However, Louisa noticed that Martin was frequently looking at her with an odd expression.

"Is there a problem Martin? Do I have lipstick smeared across my face?"

"I think we should book you in for some blood tests this week. Your skin has an orangey-yellow tinge. You could be jaundiced."

Louisa laughed. "That's just my fake tan!"

"Fake tan?"

"Yes. The dress I'm wearing tonight is very pale and I thought it would look better with a tan."

"That explains why your eyes aren't discoloured. It sounds a lot safer than risking melanoma from UV rays."

"Well, I guess it is," smiled Louisa. She thought that Martin really was a novice when it came to women.

Presently they arrived at a large, quaint coastal town. Martin drove the Lexus through the main street and proceeded several miles further down the road to a headland with spectacular scenery. Perched in prime position on the headland was a very large luxury hotel with extensive, beautifully manicured gardens.

"OH MARTIN! The Mirage on the Point! This place is dead posh!" exclaimed Louisa with delight, although rather alarmed that Martin was footing the bill.

"Have you been here before?"

"Only for high tea. I've never actually stayed here."

Martin drove up the expansive driveway and stopped in front of the reception foyer. The parking valet opened the door.

"Welcome to The Mirage on the Point, Sir. Can I take your keys?."

The concierge opened the boot and whisked their luggage away while Martin and Louisa walked to the reception desk.

"Reservation for Doctor Ellingham."

"Certainly Sir," said the receptionist, checking the computer. "You are in the deluxe, ocean view suite. Room 511. Up the lift and then turn left. Your luggage will be in your suite. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"No."

The receptionist turned to Louisa with a smile. "I hope you have a lovely time, Mrs Ellingham."

Louisa gasped. She opened her mouth to correct his mistake but then the thought occurred to her that Martin may be so archaic that he booked them in as a married couple. She glanced at Martin and saw that he was genuinely surprised, but then he lifted his head, puffed his chest out and wore an expression of such pride that she decided to remain silent. They didn't speak in the lift. Martin was still basking in the afterglow of being mistaken for Louisa's husband and Louisa was in seventh heaven that Martin had only booked one room.

Martin scanned the door lock and stepped back for Louisa to enter. Louisa walked into a very large, luxurious living room that was tastefully and sumptuously decorated. There were double doors to the bedroom on the right, which were closed, but she eagerly ran forward to the far end of the room. Floor to ceiling windows exposed one hundred and eighty degree, magnificent coastal views. She stood in awe, riveted by the tumultuous crashing of the waves on the rocks and the dramatic sea spray flying over the headland. It was a perfect, cloudless, sunny day and the sun reflected on the peaks of the waves like glistening diamonds. She felt Martin's arms encircle her from behind and he lightly kissed her cheek as she tried to take in that sensational view.

"Martin!" she cried, with emotion. "That is absolutely breathtaking!"

He gently turned her around to face him. "Not as breathtaking as what I'm looking at."

With his trademark mesmerising look, he slowly kissed her. Her arms went up around his neck and she loved the feel of his strong, warm hands pressing into her back. Once again, Louisa was transported into that state where time didn't exist ... nothing existed, except being in Martin's arms and being overpoweringly aware of his masculine smell, his gentle touch and the chemistry emanating from his body. His kisses surpassed even those of several nights ago, because she wasn't overwhelmed with emotion as she had been then. There was more time, more mindfulness, for her to enjoy every aspect of him and what he was offering – and he certainly was a PhD when it came to offering himself. For the second time that day, Louisa thought that Martin was an untapped resource.

Martin also was in a state of euphoria, overly conscious of every detail of Louisa's beauty, femininity and the sweetness that she brought to these consummate moments that they shared. He had missed her so much all week ... he had desired her so much all week. But it wasn't just the physical side of her that he craved – she was his haven. He felt safe and secure when he was with her. As she pressed her body into his and he felt the pressure of her arms around his neck, he believed that the world could not hurt him while he was with her.

Eventually, Louisa broke the kiss and looked up at him. She thought that he looked contented, even ... happy? She was very glad that she held the power to evoke such feelings in him.

"What time is our dinner reservation?" she asked softly.

"Half past seven. The restaurant is on the floor above."

"I should probably start getting ready at about seven. That gives us an hour to relax and enjoy that view. I really should hang up my dress."

"Why don't you unpack and I will order some drinks."

"I will ... but Martin ..." she said hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"There's one more thing ..." she said, with a small frown.

"What is it?"

"Well ... this room ... the dinner ... it must be costing you a fortune. I wish you would let me ..."

"Ssshhhh," said Martin, gently placing his finger on her lips. "Don't deny me the pleasure of spoiling you."

"It's a pretty big spoil" she smiled.

"You're worth it. Besides ... do you remember what I told you about travelling and seeing wonderful sights on my own?"

Louisa nodded.

"Well ... to be here... with you ... experiencing this ... with someone I love... I'm actually in your debt. I just want you to enjoy yourself" Martin replied.

"I thoroughly intend to. Thank you VERY much," and with a quick kiss on his cheek, Louisa left the room.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Louisa pushed open the double doors to the bedroom and found that it was as large and elegantly appointed as the main room. It also possessed a floor to ceiling window with the same outstanding view. The king sized bed was already turned down with crisp, white sheets and chocolates on the pillows. She entered the en suite which had an impressive, large spa bath and thought that sometime this weekend, she and Martin would need to make use of it. She unpacked her clothes and toiletries and then returned to the main room. She noticed that Martin had moved the sofa closer to the window and on the small table, in front of the sofa, there was a delicious looking tasting platter and a carafe of orange juice.

"I turned the air conditioning off and opened the windows," said Martin. "Air conditioning units are a breeding ground for bacteria. Fresh air is much more hygienic. I will also check the bed in detail later."

Louisa wasn't quite sure what he would be checking the bed for, so instead she said, "That looks tasty. I'm not familiar with everything though."

"Flatbread, tzatziki, hummus, marinated eggplant, mixed olives, sun dried tomatoes and feta."

Martin poured the juice and Louisa helped herself to the hors dóeuvres. She sat on the sofa, thoroughly enjoying the food, the scenery and the company. What a way to spend a birthday!

"Mmmmm," she said. "This orange juice is delicious. Was it in the mini bar?"

"No. I ordered it freshly squeezed with room service when I ordered the tasting plate. The rubbish in the fridge is reconstituted."

"I normally prefer apple juice, but this really is lovely."

"Now that you have been diagnosed with anaemia, you should try to drink more orange juice. Vitamin C promotes the absorption of iron. Apple juice actually blocks it."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Martin sat down next to Louisa & put one arm around her and she snuggled into his chest. They said very little, in between nibbling at the delicious food, both being content to enjoy each other's company. They made occasional comments about the marvellous view that seemed to almost permeate the room, now that they could hear the crashing of the waves and smell the invigorating salt air.

Louisa gave a small, contented sigh. "I could really get used to this lifestyle."

"I hope so," replied Martin, meaningfully, giving her hand a small squeeze.

Louisa was somewhat surprised. The comment sounded rather long term. She had known for quite some time that she could see a future for her and Martin but didn't think that Martin could realise the potentialities. A knock at the door interrupted her reflections.

"Excuse me a moment," said Martin.

Louisa looked out at the slowly setting sun and the spectrum of golden colours that it was casting on the horizon. Martin suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Happy birthday Louisa," he said, handing her the gorgeous bunch of roses that he had ordered in Truro.

"Oh Martin!" she exclaimed, burying her face in the bouquet. "They are absolutely beautiful! Thank you SO much!"

He lightly brushed away a tear that was trickling down her cheek. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Sorry. I just think that I'm a bit overwhelmed. You have given so much thought to this entire weekend. I feel that I'm swept off my feet. No one has ever sent me a dozen red roses before."

Martin was very relieved to hear that. He was determined that he alone would be the one to introduce Louisa to a whole plethora of "firsts".

"There is a vase in the en suite. I will put these in water and then I should start getting dressed for dinner. I really love them. I can't thank you enough," she said with an appreciative smile.

"My pleasure."

Louisa carefully put the roses in a vase and then placed them on the bed side table. How romantic of him to send her roses on her birthday! She was extremely touched by the thoughtful gesture. Returning to the en suite, she opened her makeup bag and applied soft grey eye shadow, grey eyeliner and mascara. She decided on bright, red lipstick to counteract the stark whiteness of the dress. Her hair had been hanging in loose curls all day, so she swept it around to one side and pinned it securely so that it dropped attractively over one shoulder. Louisa changed her stud earrings for longer, dangly ones and added several silver bracelets, a simple ring and a lovely silver chain with a pendant that would accentuate the neckline of her dress. A quick spray of her favourite perfume completed her preparations and now it was time for the dress. Returning to the bedroom, she removed the dress from the wardrobe and took a final uncertain look at it. It really was very elaborate and Martin may think it too over the top. With a sigh, she put the dress on, added her high heeled shoes and evening bag, and looked at herself in the full length mirror. Whoa! She almost didn't recognise herself.

"Well, let's hope it's to Martin's taste," she thought, indecisively.

She walked into the other room. Martin was standing at the window, looking out. On hearing her footsteps he turned and she instantly saw that the dress was the correct choice. He looked stunned.

With a sharp intake of breath, Martin stared at her, framed by the doorway. God, she was beautiful. He had never seen her look so ravishing. What had he done to deserve her? The bridal allusion was definitely not lost on him; in fact it heightened his awareness. Her dress, make up, jewellery, smile and demeanour were only a minute part of the total woman that she was, inside and out. Her sparkling personality, her sweet nature, her loving charm, her intelligence and her sturdy independence all combined to make her the inimitable Louisa Glasson that he wanted – for the rest of his life. With a suddenness that quite overpowered him, Martin experienced an exhilarating epiphany – they would always be together. He didn't know exactly how he knew this; he just knew that it would be so. His doubts were all swept away and in his new found confidence, he was certain of the direction that his existence needed to take. He had paid his dues in life and now was time to claim his prize. And what a prize she was! Surely fate could not be so unkind as to separate a couple who were so meant for each other as they were?

Slowly he walked towards her and gently held both her hands. Louisa was smiling and very thankful that she had made the right decision, and was capable of giving Martin so much pleasure. He didn't speak – he couldn't speak. As he looked her up and down, there was a small frown on his face, but Louisa understood that it wasn't a frown of displeasure. He was merely struggling to gain some control over the emotions that were raging inside him. She had the power to move him to tears. Carefully, he leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. He greatly desired to take her in his arms but didn't want to crease her dress or mess up her hair. He slowly shook his head as if indicating that he couldn't believe what he was seeing and was incapable of speech, and Louisa understood.

"You should probably get dressed now, "she whispered, releasing his hands and stepping away from the door.

Martin took a few steps forward, stopped and then turned to face her.

"Louisa," he said tenderly, "I hope you aren't allergic to pollen."

 _To be continued_


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Martin! You look so debonair!" exclaimed Louisa with delight.

Martin looked self conscious under Louisa's scrutiny. His dinner suit was beautifully cut, his shoes were highly polished and his silver cuff links shone in the light.

"You are giving me kerwallops of the heart," laughed Louisa.

"Kerwallops of the heart? I'll have to look that one up in the medical dictionary. Shall we go?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Good evening Sir, Madam. Welcome to Horizons Restaurant," said the Maitre D.

"Reservation for Ellingham."

"Certainly Sir. Table 22. Please follow me."

Louisa looked around with interest as the Maitre D led them to their table. The restaurant was very large and well patronised. Most people were formally dressed and the room had an air of wealth and sophistication. A large dance floor was over to one side, complete with a band, but the musicians hadn't arrived as yet. Two sides of the restaurant were glass, showcasing the amazing view. The Maitre D led them to a private corner, at the junction of the two windows, affording them the best views, up and down the coastline.

A waiter suddenly appeared. "Can I get you a drink, Madam?" he asked, laying a white linen napkin on Louisa's lap and handing them the menu and wine lists.

"Yes please. Water will be fine."

"And you Sir?"

"Water. Perrier. Large bottle."

"Martin!" said Louisa, once the waiter had departed. "This is the best table. We have the greatest view, plus it is so private."

"Yes, I specifically asked for this table."

Although Louisa was enchanted that Martin had gone to so much detail with the weekend, even to the point of specifying a table, the comment caused her a stab of disappointment. How many times had he been here before and with whom? He was certainly giving her the royal treatment, but how many other women had he wined, dined and possibly even seduced at this location? By nature, Louisa was not a jealous person, but she had not cared deeply enough about her previous boyfriends to arouse the green eyed monster. It was totally unreasonable to assume that Martin hadn't had previous girlfriends. In the past, she had had several relationships herself, but none of them had stirred the depths the way Martin did. Not even Danny. For the first time she wondered about the type of woman that Martin had previously dated and was rather uncomfortable.

"This all looks very posh," she said with fake gaiety.

She indicated the crisp, white linen table cloth, the delicate glassware and the highly polished silverware. The table was also attractively decorated with flowers and candles. The lighting was muted and the final beams of the sun setting on the horizon cast a warm glow over the tables next to the window. The atmosphere was very romantic, or would have been if Louisa had felt more relaxed.

"Yes. The food and service here are excellent," replied Martin.

There it was again - a more than transitory familiarity with the venue. Louisa felt that she couldn't fully enjoy her evening without probing a little more, but didn't want to appear intrusive.

"So, have you been here often?" she asked very casually, perusing the menu.

"Three times – all conferences."

Martin, not being an overly perspicacious person, did not pick up on the inquisition. Louisa breathed a sigh of relief. Now she could really enjoy her evening! She studied the menu in detail. The lobster, in particular, sounded absolutely delicious, but she was conscious that Martin was paying the bill.

"What are you having?" he asked.

"I'm not sure. Everything sounds so lovely!"

"I'd really recommend the lobster. Very fresh and well prepared."

"Is that what you are having?"

"Yes. I'm also having the seared scallops for entree."

The waiter appeared.

"What do you want?" asked Martin with annoyance.

"I'm here to take your order Sir."

"Oh ... yes ... Louisa?"

"I'll have the confit quail terrine for entree and the lobster for main. Thank you."

"And you Sir?"

"The scallops and also the lobster."

"Would you like to order wine?" asked the waiter, pouring the water.

"I'm fine, thank you," answered Louisa.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"That would have to be one of the best meals I have ever eaten," enthused Louisa contentedly.

"Yes, they have excellent chef's here."

"The terrine and the lobster were both perfectly cooked and totally delicious. I can't remember the last time I enjoyed a meal more."

"I'm glad you are enjoying yourself. My courses were exemplary and also had optimal nutritional value."

Both of them were relishing their first, uninterrupted restaurant dining experience. The conversation flowed quite nicely. They mainly talked about travel and Portwenn happenings, but Martin really was making an effort by asking Louisa about her interests and she appreciated that when he was with her, he felt comfortable enough to engage with her on a personal level. In addition to the outstanding food, the service was impeccable & not too intrusive. Their waiter approached with the dessert menus.

"Phew. I don't think I can fit dessert in. I've eaten so much," said Louisa.

"Can I recommend the trio of sorbets? It's very light and refreshing," commented the waiter.

"Mmmm. Mango, strawberry and lemon. That does sound good. Yes, I will have that please."

"Would you like any coffee Madame?"

"Yes please. Skim flat white."

"And you Sir?"

"The sorbet and a decaf short black."

Shortly after, the band commenced playing and several couples got up to dance. Louisa watched as she ate her dessert and enjoyed the peaceful music.

"This dessert is divine. It's so tangy. The flavours are heavenly," said Louisa.

"Yes and also not too many calories or saturated fats."

Louisa smiled. It was such a 'Martin' comment. He wasn't going to change and she wasn't sure she wanted him to. She had fallen in love with the man that he was and must accept him for who he was. They finished their coffee and continued to watch the dancers.

"Would you like to dance?" asked Martin.

Louisa was totally shocked. Never in a million years would she have thought that Martin would like to dance and especially in a crowded restaurant.

"YES!" she blurted. "I would really love to."

Taking her hand, Martin walked Louisa to the dance floor and expertly guided her around the other couples.

"Martin! You can dance!" said Louisa enraptured.

"I learnt at school. It was compulsory. This is just a simple waltz so the rhythm is 1-2-3, 1-2-3. Just follow me. I will take the lead. It's not difficult. Put your left hand on my right shoulder. This is called the ballroom hold."

Louisa did as she was told and discovered that Martin was a very capable dancer and communicated moves to her extremely well. He held her right hand firmly in his left and also guided her by the gentle pressure he placed on her lower back with his right hand.

"Yes, you have it now," he said with encouragement. "Look up at me, not down at your feet and try to relax your hands instead of gripping mine."

Louisa had never realised what a romantic, almost sensual, experience dancing with a man could be, especially one who knew what he was doing. Occasionally she had danced formally at weddings, but it had been more of an experience of survival, as she tried to avoid bumbling partners stepping on her toes. As she gained confidence, she really relaxed into the dance and fully enjoyed the sensation of Martin's body moving rhythmically in syncopation with hers.

As the final bars of music died away Martin asked, "Do you want to continue?''

"Definitely."

"This one is a slow foxtrot," explained Martin as the band commenced the next number. "The rhythm is slow – slow – quick – quick. Just follow me again. Keep looking up or you will lose balance."

Louisa enjoyed dancing the second dance as much as the first. She really didn't have to do much other than follow Martin's accurate lead. They were both appreciating being in each other's company and inadvertently, forming a more profound bond. They noticed that many of the seated diners were closely watching them. Louisa thought it was because they were the only couple on the dance floor who were competent. Martin believed it was because Louisa looked so stunning. He had trouble taking his eyes off her and although such a humble person, was bursting with pride to be accompanied by such an attractive woman.

As the second dance progressed, Martin became increasingly annoyed at a man who kept dancing close to them and looking down the neckline of Louisa's dress. The woman who he was dancing with didn't seem overly bothered about his flirtations as she was too busy in trying to attract the attention of a handsome male dancer who looked twenty years her junior. Towards the end of the dance, the man leaned over to Louisa, dropping his eyes suggestively.

"I like your dress," he declared confidently and suavely.

"Thanks," said Louisa with a charming smile. "I like your toupee."

Martin laughed! He actually laughed! Louisa looked up at him in shock!

"Touché!" he said proudly. "That's my girl. A rapier wit."

Louisa smirked. "It was probably rude but I just couldn't resist it. It came out before I thought about it."

During the third dance, Louisa noticed that Martin appeared rather unsettled. It was a very slow waltz that involved little more than basically moving from side to side, but Martin frequently fumbled his steps, lost coordination and seemed hugely distracted.

Martin had thoroughly enjoyed dancing the first two dances with a woman who he was falling more deeply in love with, but her proximity to him and the heat radiating from that graceful figure was starting to take its toll on his awareness. He could feel the suppleness of her body under his hands, smell the tantalising scent of her perfume as it wafted up to him and also examine the voluptuous curves of her bodice. Louisa looked up and saw that his eyes were glued to the neckline of her dress. Even though, she was an inexperienced dancer, she knew that partners needed to maintain a reasonable distance between them. Ignoring convention, she pressed her body up against his, achieving the desired effect of making her breasts slightly bulge over the top of the décolletage. She saw that Martin noticed immediately. She looked up at him through her alluring lashes with a demure expression.

"They are yours for the taking – anytime you want," she whispered seductively.

Martin coughed and stumbled. He looked at her face only long enough to convey the message that he thought she was an irresistible tease, but then his eyes were dragged like magnets to her cleavage. They continued with the third dance but Martin was certainly not bringing his 'A' game. All of his senses were awakened. He was aware of very little in the room other than the goddess that was before him and of his desire for her. Louisa felt his heart thumping. His rate of respiration increased rapidly and the grip he now had on her hand was tense.

As the music faded, Martin wanted to suggest returning to the room but he didn't want to appear too forward. It wasn't that late, after all.

"Would you like to have a rest from dancing and go back to the table? Maybe another drink?"

"No Martin. I want to go to the room."

He needed no second bidding. They returned to the table briefly to retrieve Louisa's handbag and Martin signalled to the waiter for the bill.

"Have a pleasant evening," said the Maitre D as he opened the door for them.

"'Pleasant' isn't what I have in mind," thought Louisa.

 _To be continued_


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

As Martin opened the door, Louisa reached for the light switch, but Martin stilled her hand.

"Don't turn the light on. I have something I want to show you."

Holding her hand, he led her across the room that was now bathed in opalescent moonlight and stood her in front of the window.

"Martin!" she cried, shaking her head in disbelief. "I've never seen anything like it! It's spectacular, amazing, wonderful! I can't find words to describe it!"

They stood, with his arms around her, saying nothing for a long time and revelling in the panoramic moonrise. The contrast of the inky blackness of the sky with the incandescence of that brilliant moon reflected on the churning waves creating a moonbeam that seemed to extend to eternity.

Presently Martin broke the silence. "Have you heard of the Staircase to the Moon?"

"No I haven't. What is it?"

"It's a natural phenomenon in Broome, Western Australia. It's very beautiful. It only happens two or three times a month and not at all in summer. The rising of the full moon reflects off the mudflats during low tide. It gives an optical illusion of stairs leading up to the moon."

"It sounds incredible. I'd love to see it."

"You will. I will take you there and other places ... if you will let me."

"Really?" asked Louisa with surprise.

"Yes. That is my birthday promise to you."

To seal the promise, he pulled her closer, tipped his head forward and slowly kissed her. Her body became fluid, melting. Her arms came up around his neck intensifying the depth and languor of the caress. She believed that she could lose herself forever in that beautiful mouth. She could never tire of his kisses – so tender, so expressive and so full of love. She looked up at his face, bathed in the glow of the moonlight, but Martin found her expression almost unreadable. It seemed to be a combination of delight, surprise and possibly even ... confusion?

"Have I said something wrong?" he asked with uncertainty.

"No. Of course not. It's just that ..."

"What?"

"Well, your last comment ... it sort of had ... well... an air of ... permanency ... about it?"

Martin appeared alert. "Is that a problem?" he asked cautiously.

"No. No. It was just a bit of a surprise ...that's all."

Several moments passed. This time it was Martin's expression that appeared unreadable but he did seem to be thinking deeply about something.

"I'm sorry if you were embarrassed earlier," he said.

"When was that?"

"When the receptionist called you Mrs Ellingham."

"I wasn't embarrassed. It sounded ... lovely. As if we belong together."

Martin seemed relieved. "I have a birthday present for you."

"Martin, no! You have given me so much already. There can't possibly be anything else."

"It's just something small to mark the occasion. Close your eyes and hold out your hand."

Louisa did as she was told with a smile on her face. Martin took something out of his pocket and placed it on her upturned palm.

"You can look now."

Louisa opened her eyes and saw a square shaped jewellery box.

"Ooh earrings," she thought. "I bet they are nice. Martin has such good taste."

She carefully opened the lid to find ... an exquisitely cut diamond ring with the largest nugget of a diamond she had ever seen! Her astonishment was so great that she screamed, she felt her body go weak from shock and had to clutch at Martin's arm for support. She looked up at him with eyes so wide they seemed to be engulfing her entire face. He was looking down at her with tears in his eyes and a questioning expression that seemed full of love, but also uncertainty.

"Marry me!" he said, as though his entire existence depended on her acceptance of his offer.

"What was that?" gasped Louisa.

"Please Louisa. I can't bear to be without you. Will you marry me?" he declared earnestly.

"Yes ... Yes Martin, I will!" cried Louisa tremulously as she threw herself into Martin's arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

She could feel his body shaking with emotion as he held her tightly. One hand was clamped across her back and the other was firmly behind her head. He buried his face in her silky hair as he tried to comprehend the unbelievable concept that the woman of his dreams had agreed to be his wife. He held her for a long time, afraid that if he let her go, this fairy tale would come to an end.

But Louisa was very real and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with adoration. "I love you, Martin. More than I can say and I can't wait to be your wife."

With a penetrating stare out of his damp eyes, Martin said with a quiver in his voice, "I will always love you."

Louisa hastily wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. "I must look a fright; I have mascara running down my face."

"You have never looked lovelier."

Louisa smiled and sniffed. "I haven't even looked properly at my ring yet. Oh Martin. This is an incredible ring. I've never seen a diamond that big before. What size is it?"

"It's 3 carat."

"It's magnificent ... absolutely magnificent."

"Shall I put it on for you? We can get it resized if necessary."

"Yes please," replied Louisa, holding out her left hand.

The ring fitted perfectly and they both spent several moments proudly gazing down on the symbol of their love.

"I can't believe it. I really can't believe it. I'm engaged. You're my fiancé!" she said with delight.

"It does have rather a nice sound to it. There's a box too."

"Can you please excuse me for a moment? I really need to wash my face. I don't want mascara dripping onto this white dress."

"Don't be long," he whispered, giving her a light kiss on her forehead.

"I won't," she promised and quickly left the room.

Martin collapsed onto the sofa, his heart thumping. He felt emotionally drained, but also incredibly relieved. He knew he wanted to marry Louisa the moment he had left her home earlier in the week, but being riddled with his usual self doubts, he wasn't at all sure of what her reaction would be. He had purchased the ring in Truro with the hope of asking her to marry him this weekend. His plan had also been to try to gauge her feelings and intentions for their relationship and possibly defer the proposal to another time if the timing hadn't seemed right. He was thrilled, therefore, when she had been the one to raise the question of permanency and this had given him the confidence to decide to present her with the ring tonight.

Louisa looked at herself in the bathroom mirror and laughed. She had panda eyes, mascara tear marks running down her face and her cheeks were blotchy. And Martin had said that she had never looked lovelier! Well, that just proved that love was blind. Love! She was in love! He was in love with her! More so, – he wanted to be in love with her for the rest of his life! She stood in front of the mirror for several minutes trying to take it all in and then with a little shake, realised that she said she would hurry. She thought she could hear Martin talking to someone while she washed her face, applied some scented lip gloss and added a liberal spray of perfume. She took the pins from her hair so that it cascaded softly down her shoulders and back. She quickly slipped into her negligee and returned to the other room.

Martin was transfixed! He had thought that Louisa looked beautiful when he first saw her in her formal dress, but that paled into insignificance compared to how she looked now! The negligee was white, satin, long and flowing. It had thin straps and was low cut. It was split down the front to the navel which was laced together with delicate ribbon tied in a bow at the top. He could tell that she was wearing no underwear, as there were no tell tale lines under the soft fabric. As she slowly walked towards him, with an enticing smile, he noticed her breasts swinging seductively under the clinging folds, and the outline of her hips and thighs, unimpeded by lingerie. The visual stimulation, combined with the knowledge that she was completely naked under that thin layer of fabric, inflamed his desire.

He took a few swift strides towards her and firmly grasped her around the waist, his mouth hungrily seeking hers. The impetus of the embrace almost swept Louisa off her feet, but she reached up behind his head and pulled him deeper and more firmly into the kiss. His hair was so thick and she seized her fingers into it fiercely. His kisses lost their finesse and became urgent – almost primeval. He was further impassioned to discover that the power in him had found a matching power and she also realised this. The rawness and explosiveness of their ardour startled them both and the tumultuous crashing of the waves seemed to ignite a further torch to their yearning. The tactility of the smooth satin was massively stimulating as he ran his large, firm hands over her body; her back, her firm bottom, her thighs, her shapely hips. He moved his hands up her waist, lightly brushing the sides of her breasts and he felt her shiver with anticipation. Once again, he fell under her cloak of darkness, where time and place didn't exist.

Suddenly there came a loud knock at the door!

 _To be continued._


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Louisa looked at the door in horror! She wasn't at all a profane person, but she strongly felt like uttering a few choice expletives. She felt devastated. It had taken her many months to get Martin to really open up to her and she now had him in the palm of her hand, ripe for the taking and there was yet another interruption! A dozen thoughts passed swiftly through her mind. Who the hell could that be? No one knew they were there – surely? It was also getting quite late. Who would be interrupting them at this hour? Maybe it was a medical emergency in the hotel? Martin had registered as 'Dr Ellingham' after all and they were a considerable distance from the closest hospital. She really was beginning to think that they truly were 'star crossed lovers.'

It took Martin several moments to bring himself back to reality from the halcyon state that he had fallen under, before he realised that he had previously ordered room service.

"It's all right," he said reassuringly. "Wait for me on the sofa."

Louisa sat down and Martin presently appeared carrying a silver ice bucket that contained a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes.

"How lovely! Champagne! But Martin, you don't drink," Louisa said.

"I will have a glass of champagne to celebrate a special occasion and I think this ranks as a very special occasion, don't you?"

"Definitely. Why don't I open it and you can get out of that suit. There is a bath robe on the back of the en suite door. You will be more comfortable in that."

"Er ... yes," replied Martin as he left the room.

Louisa looked at the label as she lifted it out of the ice bucket. "Mmmm. Dom Perignon! Martin has such good taste."

Louisa poured the champagne and Martin returned, looking a little self conscious in the bath robe.

"That's better," said Louisa, handing Martin a flute. "Now we can really relax. Can I propose a toast?"

"Please do."

"Martin, I am so thrilled to be planning a future with you," Louisa said, emotionally. " I have wanted this for so long and I really wish to spend the rest of my life with you. You make me feel like no one ever has. I love you and always will. To us."

She clinked her glass against Martin's and they both took a celebratory sip.

"Louisa, I am so honoured and proud that you have agreed to be my wife. I will do my utmost to make you happy," replied Martin, shakily.

He leaned forward and briefly kissed her. She tasted sweet and bubbly. They semi reclined on the sofa, sipping champagne, enjoying the ambience and chatting about future plans.

"This has been the greatest day of my life," sighed Louisa.

"I hope I can be the cause of many more great days for you."

"You must never doubt it. I feel so secure, being engaged to you. It's wonderful to feel that I actually belong to someone. I never really had that feeling as a child, with my mum leaving so early in my life."

"I know what you mean. I feel the same."

"Mrs Ellingham! I'm really going to be Mrs Ellingham!"

Martin smiled, put his arms around her and drew her closer.

"Please don't feel under any obligation to take my name. The whole village and the school children know you as Miss Glasson."

Louisa shivered slightly. "I don't really have any great desire to keep my father's name. I would be proud to take your name."

Martin gave her a grateful kiss on the top of her head.

"And my engagement ring! It's beautiful!"

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it! It's the most perfect ring I have ever seen. And so tasteful. I don't like elaborate jewellery. You have such impeccable taste."

"Thank you. I tried to find a simple design which was good quality. The cut and setting are excellent."

"Is it silver?"

"No. White gold."

"Thank you so much. This has been the best present anyone has ever given to me plus the best birthday. I'll certainly remember this one!"

They continued chatting, with Louisa frequently lifting her left hand to admire her ring and catch the light in the facets. The bow at the top of her negligee became untied fairly early in the conversation and each successive lift of her hand unravelled more and more of the thin ribbon, leaving the neckline and bodice gaping. Martin was finding it progressively more difficult to contribute to the conversation as his attention was fixed firstly on her low cut neckline, then on her cleavage as it became more and more exposed and finally on the inner half of each breast. The pert shapeliness of her perfect form was driving him crazy with longing. He was starting to get uncomfortably overheated and fidgeted slightly to distract himself.

If Louisa noticed her gaping neckline, then she certainly didn't do anything to adjust it. She was aware of Martin's distraction and his sultriness. Even through the towelling fabric of his bath robe, she could feel his arousal. She took his glass from his hand and put them both on the table. In turning back to face him, the loose bodice dislodged to one side, allowing one breast to escape.

Martin was spellbound and Louisa smiled up at him. With his heart thumping on overdrive, he bent his head and found her mouth; so real, so exquisite and so _his._ Her arms slid around his neck, his across her back. Now was the opportunity to feel, smell, taste and enjoy. She locked her fingers in his hair and made him kiss her harder. There was nothing controlled about his mouth.

Martin broke the kiss only long enough to utter breathlessly, "Are we covered?"

"Yes," replied Louisa, also gasping, "I'm on the pill."

After several more amorous moments, Martin broke the kiss a second time.

"Which one?" he panted.

"Microgynon." Louisa replied as she grasped the back of Martin's head & pulled him down to meet her lips.

"Good choice. The side effects are ..."

"Don't care..." as she almost savagely pulled him closer, kissing him harder and deeper.

Martin continued devouring her mouth and then moved to her throat. The firmness of his mouth against her neck brought a delight so intense it made her dizzy. He ran his fingers lightly down her arm making her shiver with pleasure. His touch was dynamic. His surgeon's hands examined every inch of the satin, educating himself about a body he already knew so well; so often had he fantasised about her. His sensitive fingers caressed every inch of that exposed breast. As he fondled it tenderly with his warm, firm hands, he felt her nipple go taut and heard her sigh with euphoria. As his lips and tongue joined the reconnaissance, he felt her body tense up and her sighs turned to whimpers of elation. It was incredibly provocative to know that her arousal matched his.

Louisa undid the sash of his bath robe and was ecstatic to discover that he was also naked underneath. She thrust her hand inside the robe and over his well defined pectorals. The fieriness of his body and the soft, fine hair on his chest kindled her lust further. She ran her palm over his back and flank in a loving caress, enjoying the smoothness of his skin. She slid her hand around the front and cupped it around the heavy mass in his groin. She was further exhilarated to feel it growing and changing, becoming strangely alive. He flinched under her electrifying touch and uttered a low moan. It was enormously exciting and she wanted him acutely.

"Let's go," she whispered urgently, taking him by the hand and leading him into the bedroom.

Standing by the side of the bed, Louisa slipped the straps off her shoulders and the negligee fell to the floor in a soft puddle.

"Oh Louisa," said Martin, huskily, "You are so beautiful. So _very_ beautiful."

He simply stared at her for several moments, but then awoke from his reverie to realise that she was now upon the bed, waiting for _him_ and him alone. He hastily threw off his robe and joined her.

Her touch was like a detonator igniting his fervour. Her skin was under his hands; his skin was fused to hers, as one. She was no longer a separate being. He wanted to make her a part of himself. Once again, time had no meaning. He looked down at her. Her face, faintly lit by the moonshine, revealed her intense pleasure. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him, binding him even more securely to her. He gave himself over to her completely.

The feel of him! With the crashing of the waves to spur them on, she opened herself to what they both wanted and realised that he must have made love to her many times before in his imagination – he knew her so well. The power, held dormant for such a long time, was released by him and reciprocated by her. With any other man, the incredible intimacy would have intimidated her, but he showed her that this sensuality was hers for the taking and he was hers to command. Louisa's previous sexual partners had not been skilled enough to enable her to synchronise her pinnacle with theirs, but Martin, with his usual expertise and finesse, was like a master craftsman. As she reached the brink, she looked up at him with astonishment and saw that he realised it. He looked down at her with a smile; so full of love and so proud that he was the first to take her to the unexplored territory of mutual paradise. Finally she cried for him to finish it. Her senses merged and with an utterance of rapture which shook her intensely, she succumbed to the inevitable.

Martin went with her at the finite moment; ecstasy is fleeting, but she would be with him forever.

 _To be continued_


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Martin awoke several times throughout the night, concerned that the sublime happenings of the evening had all been a dream, as had been his experiences in the past when fantasising about Louisa. But each time he heard Louisa's steady breathing and felt the warmth of her body close to his and so, reassured, he managed to return to a restful slumber.

He was the first to awake in the morning and he protectively pulled Louisa closer to him. She instinctively snuggled her body into his without awakening and he looked down at her, still incredulous of the events of last night. He could not believe that he had summoned the courage to propose marriage and that she had actually accepted him! And then there was their incredible love making – the passion, the intimacy, the honesty. The sensuality had been on a higher plane to anything he had experienced before. They had not spoken afterwards – what could be said at such a moment? He had waited for her breathing to become rhythmic, her thumping heart to slow down and her body to lose its tension before she finally succumbed to sleep and he had followed her shortly after. He was exhausted by the night's occurrences, both mentally and physically.

Martin realised he needed to use the bathroom but didn't want to wake Louisa. He gently extricated her arms and legs from around him and carefully slid out the side of the bed. Louisa rolled over, but did not awaken. Martin decided he would also shower and shave. The ensuite door was thick and the noise of the running water would not wake her. Just as he applied after shave, he heard her call out to him with a slight tone of panic.

"Martin!"

"It's alright. I'm here," he said, opening the ensuite door.

"You're not sneaking off, are you?"

"No," he said as he walked back to the bed. "I just didn't want to wake you."

It struck him forcibly, how uninhibited he felt around Louisa, compared with his previous lovers. He was completely naked and he wasn't in the least self conscious. The discarded bath robe was still lying in the corner where it had been tossed, amid the throes of their passion.

"Where would I be sneaking off to anyway?" he asked as he climbed back into bed and wrapped his arms around her.

"Mmmmm. You smell nice," said Louisa, nestling her head into his neck. "I don't know. Breakfast?"

"I have ordered breakfast room service to arrive at 9. We don't need to check out until midday. I thought you might like a walk around the grounds and the coastal path."

"That would be lovely. We also need to make use of that spa," said Louisa with a smile. She was silent for a few moments, as if turning something over in her mind. "You don't regret ...?"

"Noooo!" he answered emphatically.

"No. Me neither. Don't take this the wrong way but could you just ask me again?"

"Ask you?"

"Well it's just that last night came as such a shock and it hasn't really sunk in."

"Right."

"Sorry"

"No, I see ...um ..." Martin paused and took a deep breath. "Will you marry me? ... Was that useful?"

"Yes Martin. That was very useful," replied Louisa with a contented smile.

They remained silent for several minutes, enjoying being in each other's arms and then Louisa spoke first.

"I know I said it last night but yesterday really was the best day of my life. Thank you so much for making every little detail so special."

"You're very welcome," he replied lovingly, reaching down and giving her one of his superlative kisses.

Louisa smiled up at him playfully. "I hope you realise what you are giving up, Martin – by getting engaged. The carefree life of a bachelor, the wild parties, the weekends in the snow, the loss of freedom ..."

"Who wants freedom when your ball and chain is as delectable as you?"

Louisa laughed and then looked thoughtful.

"I think I understand better now, she said."

"About what?"

"About what you said the other night, at my house. About how you wanted our first time to be."

"I hope you weren't disappointed."

"Disappointed!" exclaimed Louisa. "It was like nothing I have ever experienced before. I've never been able to ... well, you know ... get the timing right."

"I knew it."

"I thought you did. How did you manage it? Is it because you are a doctor?"

"No, it's because I'm a man who is deeply in love with the woman he is about to marry."

Louisa's eyes filled with tears as she reached up and gave him a lingering kiss.

"I understand now what you meant. It really was a union of souls, of minds and of bodies. You took me to a whole new place. I can't find the right words to explain how you made me feel and how much I love you. In fact, I would go so far as to say that the whole experience was ..."

"Perfect."

 _THE END_

 _Many thanks to those who read this story and especially those who commented. As this was my first ff, I was rather nervous and your comments gave me the confidence to continue. Special thanks to GS, MM and RS who gave me advice on various issues. It is great to be in contact with people who love the show as much as I do. My main aim with this story was to create a romantic union between two people who care about each other. I hope I achieved this in some degree. Thank you._


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